Divergence
by cheddarbiscuit
Summary: In which the tangled web she wove pulled tight around his eyes.
1. Chapter 1

CheddarBiscuit Presents

Divergence.

Disclaimer: This is not mine.

Summary: _In which the tangled web she wove pulls tight around his eyes._

Note: A sort of 're-grimmed' extended ending to Tangled. You know, eye scream and teen pregnancy (she's not really a _teen_, though.) Just for a writing exercise, and everyone else is (or at least, was) doing it, too. So I might as well jump on board.

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Chapter one:

Flynn Ryder does not like bring predicable. When the Fates tell him something, he laughs and does another thing. A completely different thing. The very things that would anger the Fates most, in fact. It was a rush to flip destiny the bird and run grinning from one trail of life to the next, jumping the obstacles of the world like there was no tomorrow, and with that lifestyle, there rarely was.

Eugene Fitzherbert, despite his best efforts, was predictable through and through. This is why I had cast that old skin aside and slipped into the guise of Flynn Ryder. That, of course, was the last predictable thing I ever did. It was, in a way, the only thing _I_ had done in a while. The rest was just Flynn Ryder.

"Okay, Max, let's see how fast you can run."

The white horse whinnied in approval, bowed his head, and the landscape became a blur. Then, water; now, trees. I could only see strait ahead, and I did not need to bother guiding Maximus. He knew this trail. The very same one he had chased me down days before. Still trees; then blue, as we plummeted down into the lower forest. First a stone wall; suddenly a curtain of vines and a tunnel leading into an uncanny valley, with a tower rising over every thing.

Rapunzel's tower.

I leapt from Maximus' saddle. A storm was brewing overhead. Half of me suspected it was only Rapunzel's mother's doing. Part of me — the part that was Eugene — prayed it was just coincidence, and that my adversary was _not_ a witch. The other part — the part that had become the mask — knew she was with a stone cold certainty. Flynn Ryder had been in too many risky situations before not to know it was time for him to grapple with a sorceress.

Eugene Fitzherbert knew it was just for Rapunzel. She had made him — me — realize that while he had lost himself in a lie, that lie was still who he was. Slowly, I was beginning to look back on who I had been, and who I was now. I was not becoming less of Eugene. He — I — was just changing.

After Flynn met Blondie, I had started changing for the better. She had seen past that mask, she had not realized it at first, but once she knew, she knew. She started staring past Flynn and into Eugene, and both of them had realized they could change for the better. I was not about to let her live her life cowering in a tower.

I dared not call for her, for fear her mother would hear me. Clearly, if her mother was a thorough woman, there would be another way in and out of the tower, to be extra prepared for cases like me. I walked around the base, knowing full well that there was always more than one way even into the most heavily guarded fortresses, and also knowing that there was no impregnable tower that I had yet to slip into.

I found what had once been a sealed up entry way. It had been covered with vines and blocked off by rocks, but those had been stripped away two or three days ago. There was a dark staircase spiraling upwards, and I could see by the light cast from the empty door frame there was a laboratory in the center of this tower, and the walls were really just bookshelves.

So, she was a witch!

I trembled a little bit, knowing I was up against a witch was daunting, but in a way, bracing. Even if it was nearly impossible, Flynn Ryder had always pulled through. Eugene Fitzherbert would have to learn how to do that, too.

I started climbing the stairs, wandering up through the darkness, waiting for the bottom of the floor to hit my head, or Rapunzel's mother to spring up out of no where and stab me. I wondered what she would do to me, should she discover me? Kill me? Blind me? Turn me into a frog?

I knew next to nothing about slaying witches. Were they weak against silver, or wood? Flynn Ryder knew very little about the supernatural, after all. Eugene Fitzherbert was no better, admittedly.

I saw a faint sliver of light above my head, and knew it was a crack in the floor. It was fairly obvious what was going on here. A tile in Blondie's floor looked set like the others, but could easily be pushed up from the bottom, and lifted from the top by magic, insuring her mother would be the only one who could use it. This was how she had kept Rapunzel in the dark for so long. Perhaps she never even used this old lab anymore.

I pushed up on the stone. Doubtless, it was a hard task for Rapunzel's mother, but a simple one for me. Granted, I was going on a wing and a prayer, hoping it would be Blondie who saw me, and not the witch. Fear for my well being _did_ make the slab harder to move, still, I had raised a million of them.

What I saw first was darkness, then dark clouds reflected in shattered glass on the floor. I looked around and I saw the end of her long blonde hair trailing up the stairs and to her room. The door was ajar, but I could not hear anyone speaking. Gothel was no were to be seen. I pulled myself out of the trapdoor and replaced the stone. Then, moving quickly and quietly, (just because I could not see the witch, did not mean the witch could not see me) I took the stairs two at a time and knelt down outside her bedroom door.

"Rapunzel?" I hissed, "Rapunzel, you okay?"

"Eugene!"

I heard her jump up and take two steps, but I also heard the sound of a chain abruptly pulling tight and her falling back onto the bed with a yelp.

I stood up and opened the door. Her wrists were cuffed together, and held by a short chain to a metal loop securely fastened to the wall. She did not seem to care. Her green eyes lit up and she held her chained hands out to me, tears of sadness had suddenly became tears of joy.

I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her forehead, rocking her back and forth. She was here, and for the most part, safe. We were together again. So long as I knew where she was, it would be entirely possible for me to be with her for as long as I lived.

"Eugene!" she cried against my chest, "I thought you were dead!"

"Not when I have you to live for." I told her, running my hand soothingly over her hair, "Come on, let's go."

"How?" she asked, "Mother has the key."

I had a lock pick in my pocket. I reached inside my vest and took it out. Unless the _chain_ was magical, I was certain I could get the shackles off. And after a few moments of fumbling to get the pick in the lock, and a few more of tampering with the works, her cuffs fell free, one right after the other. She gently rubbed her wrists and looked at me, and repeated, "I thought you were dead. Mother told me you were to be hanged for stealing the crown. Eugene... I'm... I'm the lost... "

Flynn Ryder knew it was time to make a break for it, even if Eugene wanted to sit down and savor the moment. I pulled her to her feet and steered her out of the room, not really caring what she was saying at the moment. All I cared about was leaving. "Where is she now?"

"She told me she was meeting up with mercenaries. She will be back any minute, Eugene... she used some sort of powder... in the fire place..."

"What?"

The fire flared green for a moment. I knew it was too small to accommodate someone magically popping in and out of it, but it seemed to stretch as the green flames rose up. Rapunzel yelped in horror and pushed me back, "Run." she hissed, "Get out of here."

But I was too busy starring as the woman I assumed Rapunzel called 'Mother,' and two others were stepping out of the fire place. Not them. Anyone but them. She betrayed them when she had left them to be arrested, why were they joining forces with her again? So they could try to double cross a witch? There must be a name for that kind of stupidity.

But, yes. Jacob and Wilhelm, [1.] the menacing, red-haired twins. Imminent and hulking gargoyles on either side of the witch. The Stabbington Brothers. They were like minded and silent as the dead, except when their one voice was raised. It was husky and cold, like ice on a rocky desert. They were wanted for anything and everything I could think of, and even things I could not. Even the things that would make a world-wise, war-hardened general cringe. I was not going to leave Rapunzel in their care.

"No." I hissed back, taking her hand, "Not with out you."

The witch wiggled her nose and raised her hand, a gleam in her eye like she could see my worst fears. Considering she was a witch, she probably could. I heard Rapunzel screaming behind me, and glanced back. At first I thought a golden snake had risen from the darkness, and was coiling around the rafters, but I saw that it was Blondie's hair was rising and slithering around us on its own.

Or rather, it was moving with the aid of her mother. Blondie threw herself at Gothel's feet as the hair snaked around my ankles and wrists. The Stabbington Brothers watched in awe, probably cured for the moment of their Chronic Back-stabbing Disorder. Rapunzel screamed in terror as her hair started to pull taught, raising me from the floor and holding me completely immobile.

"Let him go, Mother!" she cried, "Please, let him go."

She just brushed Rapunzel back and let her fall into the hands of one of the Stabbington Brothers. I believe it was Jacob. The one that always spoke.

"So you managed to survive, did you?" she asked me, stepping forward.

"You knew I would." I told her, "You were just hoping your little crystal ball was wrong."

She slapped me with the back of her hand, "Silence."

Something told me then, she was cursed herself. Cursed never to be able to kill. I would probably never know the particulars of it, of course. Maybe all of her plans to kill me would fail, simply because of that curse. Or, I may be completely mistaken, and she was _not _cursed at all, she just loved toying with me.

And I did feel a bit like a toy: an example to Rapunzel and the Stabbington Brothers that a witch was not to be crossed. With deft little movements of her hands, she made me jerk back and fourth like a puppet. I wound up hitting myself several times, and I was knocked into the wall at least once or twice.

I heard a heavy chair scraping against the floor and saw the witch's hand turning before her. Suddenly, Rapunzel's hair relaxed and I was dropped somewhat painfully into the chair. My head snapped back, and all I saw were stars for a moment, then, I felt her hair snaking around me again. The sorceress circled the chair, weaving the strands of gold and binding me in place.

Rapunzel was struggling to get forward. She was probably trying to grab her false mother and throw her from the tower, or at least stop her incessant laughing and prancing about the room. I was still dizzy from my bebut as a living puppet, and so her laughing and twirling around me seemed to make the world swim even further.

"Eugene!"

I heard Rapunzel's bare feet on the floor behind me, and heard an angry gasp from Gothel as the two collided somewhere to the left of me. I could feel her hand against my shoulder, and the other hand vainly trying to free my arms and legs.

"She's going to kill you..." she whimpered, "She's going to kill you..."

Her false mother pushed her back again, this time Wilhelm held her in place while Jacob tied a cloth around her mouth.

I tried to slip free. Was I really going to be killed? I felt a rope around my neck, and a noose pulled tight. The chair spun on its own to face the glass window, then, seemingly by magic, I was flung forward, trapped by Blondie's hair. On instinct, I tried to raise my hands to cover my eyes. I knew being thrown through a window was bad news, even if I was obviously going to be killed soon.

But why kill me like this? What happened to stabbing, or perhaps a crossbow for the more modern maven of magic? Why throw me from a window? Or just turn me into a frog?

The glass cut my face and hands as the chair crashed into it. I heard Rapunzel screaming my name through her gag. What a curious way to die, hung from a tower, bound to a chair. I suppose a person who practiced the dark arts would know next to nothing about the word 'overkill.' But perhaps she was just fond of terrible choices. Either I fell to my death, or I was hung. I all depended on the length of the rope.

Surely it should have tightened by now?

I could only open one eye, the other was useless, and hurt when I tried to force it open. The rope was still loose around my neck, and the ground was only inches away. I was rapidly heading to a patch of thorns.

Thorns. More terrible news. Considering the state of my eyes now, I was justifiably afraid. If could not see, I would be completely helpless. I would never be able to find Rapunzel. Never.

"God no..." I hissed, "Please, God..."

Although, I had never really believed in any god. Perhaps I had always had a sinking suspicion that I was flipping someone important when I gave the bird to Fate, but I had gotten good at ignoring it. This may be my retribution, to wander blind without Rapunzel.

I would rather die than be helpless to save her!

The hair uncoiled itself, and I fell away from the chair. I would have twisted around had I thought it would do any good. First, I felt the tiny stabs of nature's spears, then I felt the chair breaking over my back and shoulders. I lay there, but I felt as if the thorns, though a terrible pain, had cushioned my fall, like being caught in a net of very sharp fibers.

I felt a horse's teeth grab the back of my shirt, then I was pulled up to my feet. He whinnied in shock, and pushed me forward again until I fell to my knees at the pool in the center of the valley. Working by feel alone, I splashed water on my face, thinking that would clear away the thorns.

The water stung were my eyes were once undamaged. I felt blood running between my fingers as I tried not to scream in pain. What would I do? What? I tried blinking a few times, hoping the blindness would just wash away, but the pain only seemed to increase, as I turned my eyes from right to left, vainly searching for a window of vision. None came, and I was left in darkness, with nothing but my heartbeat and the pool sloshing softly in front of my knees.

I pressed my fingers to my eyelids. I could feel scratches, cuts that had come from glass and thorns. I could feel warm blood against cool water.

I heard Maximus breathing to my left. I searched blindly, and eventually my wet hands reached coarse horsehair. He tucked his head under my arm and helped me to stand. I felt sick, trying hopelessly to find the tower again. Maximus steered me along to where the tower was, but when I reached out for it, my hand brushed only air.

"Max... Did the tower just... vanish?"

He tapped the ground twice. Was the general rule once for no, and twice for yes? I was certain it was, so after a few steps, and only meeting air, I gave up and stumbled back to the horse, burying my forehead in the side of his neck.

"This is bad, Max. This is bad."

This was worse than the flaws on the wanted posters all over Corona. This was terrible. I was lost in darkness, and the one person that could help me was gone. I had no where to go. Doubtless, the kingdom was doubling their efforts to find me. I would be killed on the spot. No questions.

"Can you sniff her out, Max?"

Once for no.

"Max... Will you stay with me?"

Sadly, he circled his neck around me and rested his head against my back. He tapped the ground twice, determined. I smiled through my misery and pain. With _Max_ I was certainly not helpless.

"Will you search for clues?"

He left me standing there, and I heard him poking around the valley. While he did this I lifted my hands to my neck to fumble with the rope. I loosened it and slipped it over my head, the rough fibers scraped the scratched skin of my face, and, with great pain, my blinded eyes. They did not do any more damage, but scared me enough to scream. Max did not seem to notice. After the pain had subsided, he returned to me and dropped something into my hand.

A shard of glass. It was about as long as my hand from the tip of my middle finger to the heel of my palm. About half as wide, tapering into a point at one end. I turned it over in my hands and felt warmth and light reflect on my face.

"Is this... part of a mirror?"

Twice for yes

At first I was a little confused, then, I realized that any sorceress would have a _magic_ mirror of some sort. Mirrors, even normal ones, were hard to come by, because they were a fairly new invention. So, she and Rapunzel must have shared the same mirror. Rapunzel never knew it was a magic mirror. I never realized it until now.

And now it lay in shards.

"Are there... more here?"

Once for no.

I put the mirror shard away in the inside pocket of my vest. Magic meant nothing if I could not harness it, but perhaps one shard would respond to the others. Perhaps I could use it to track them. Just perhaps.

Either way, it was a sweet momento. I could have cut her hair with this shard of glass. I could have stopped this before it began. I could, if I was desperate, take my life with it.

"Max," I said, reaching out blindly for him again. At once, he came to me, so that the saddle horn came to rest under my right hand. "Be my eyes, take me to the Snugly Duckling."

I focused my muscle memory and my foot found the stirrup. I swung myself into the saddle, holding tight to Maximus' neck, praying the saddle would not slip, or I would not be struck from his back. I pressed myself against the horse's body to keep myself from getting hurt, and wished I could see again.

He went slowly, so that I would not be jostled too much, and eventually he stopped. I felt hands on my shoulders, one had too many fingers, the other had a hook. The other two seemed normal enough. I was pulled off of the saddle and half lead, half dragged into the Snugly Duckling.

Through the noise and chaos around me, I heard Big Nose holler, "Get a doctor!"

I heard a horse galloping off, I did not know if it was Maximus, or another horse, because I was lead up stairs, tripping several times and catching myself on the banister.

"What happened?"

I found it difficult to speak. I was unsure of why, it might be because I was in shock, or because I was tired. "I... I tried to go save her... But... Her mother was waiting for me. She knew I was coming and she... How can I follow them if I can't see?"

"Follow them?"

"I'm... I'm terrified." I was being laid down on a worn mattress. I had slept on ground more comfortable than that lumpy old thing, but it was clean, at least. I reached out and grabbed Hook-hand's shirt, "How... How bad is it?"

Hook-hand sighed and removed my hand from his shirt. I felt his hook against my forehead, clearing the hair from my damaged eyes. What felt like tiny thorns stuck in my skin were slipped out. I could suddenly feel dozens of nature's spears embedded into my skin.

"It's bad, kid." he told me, "It's bad."

I heard footsteps coming up the stars, and a second person entered the room. I sensed Hook-hand being gently ushered aside and the new visitor sat down beside me, "Go." he told Hook-hand, "Fetch me the cleanest water you can, then boil it."

"Doc..."

"Go!" he commanded, then he turned my face towards his (at least, that is what I assumed he was doing) and I surmised he was looking intently at me, "What happened?"

"You wouldn't believe me."

"Try me."

"There is a tower... hidden out there, in that forest, and there was a girl living there..." Speaking was still difficult for me. I was scared. I was tried. I could not see a thing, and it felt like I was cut off from half of the world. "She and I... we were friends... but her mother, she hates me... She pushed me from the tower... and there were these _thorns_, see?"

I raised a hand to my face, the thorns in my hand catching the thorns by my eyes. Were there really thousands of them, or was it just my imagination?

"I understand..."

"Doc... she's in trouble... I have to go after her... Please... I..."

Something was pressed over my mouth. It felt like a rag, and it smelled like ether. I tried to push his hand away, "No..." I insisted, "Doc... I have to... have to... find her..."

He told me to keep breathing and lay still. But I did not want to lay still and quiet. Not while Rapunzel was out there, somewhere. If the doctor would just operate while I was awake, I could get up and keep going. I could catch them. They would be on foot, after all, and I would have Maximus. Rapunzel would be using more energy moving back than going forward, too.

Even if she had cast a spell and whisked the tower away to the clouds, I had a chance of finding them. I could try, at least. I could...

... No... I could not even try to stand any more.

I faded away into nothingness, unaware of what was going on or what was being said around me. All I could see was darkness, which I knew I would have to grow accustomed too. I even dreamed I was blind, but I had forgotten about Rapunzel in that dream. I only knew Flynn Ryder.

"Here is that water." I heard sometime later, "Will he be okay?"

"I'm afraid he will never be able to see again."

"Poor kid."

Me? Unfortunate? What about Rapunzel? What about the poor kid that was being dragged across the country, with no one to help her? What about the trapped free spirit that was living under the iron fist of a witch?

What about her?

This time, I faded into a dream with sight...

_There was no point in being chained anymore. Rapunzel walked though the forest, her head bowed and her long hair tied in a thick braid and hidden by a long hood. How fitting that it was black. She would not run away, or even try to fight. Eugene was dead. There was nothing to fight for. She only wished she had time to sew a new dress for herself. Black. It would be kind of her mother to let her mourn Eugene properly._

_ Gothel jerked the chain. Kind no longer seemed in her vocabulary. She thought of what she would paint next if she was given the chance. Perhaps just Eugene, laying in that bed of dark thorns, his eyes ripped and gashed, nature's tiny spears embedded in his skin. She would soak all of the color from it, so that the image was all grays and red and blue for his vest._

_ She had so loved his eyes._

_ She reached up to rub a tear from her eye. She still had the purple cloth in her hands, with the golden sun woven into the fabric. EugeneÕs eyes had almost been like the sun. She would never gaze upon that bright star again. She would never touch an item of color. She would take this square of cloth and burn it in Eugene's memory._

_ Two figures lurked in the woods, one on either side of her and Gothel. Each one lead a mule, piled on the backs of those two poor creatures were various supplies carried from the tower to her new cloister. None of the fabric was black. None if it would fit the empty feeling that was slowly devouring her._

_ Pascal whirred on her shoulder, turning to the blue of Eugene's vest one more time. Her lower lip began to tremble, and he looked towards Gothel, turning black. Not even true black. A black so sad and withered it was more of a dingy gray. That color suited her, too. She wished her dress could change as quickly as Pascal._

_ She wished the sky would reflect her feelings. It had at first been dark and stormy, but a few moments of wandering through the forest, the sun had emerged again, turning the woods a bright shimmering green. Because, while the storm clouds had gathered over head, a little rain had fallen. Not enough to make mud, just enough to make the grass slick and cold against her feet, and the leaves light up like they were covered in diamonds._

_ How she wished a cold, hard rain would fall, just so she could feel that some one, some where, even if it was only the spirit of the rain, pitied her. But no. The bright sun beat down even more, through wilderness and glen as she followed obediently behind her false mother._

_ She jerked the chain again, chafing Rapunzel's wrists. She felt no better than those poor mules being lead along by the Stabbington Brothers, whom Gothel had hired to escort them to their new hideaway, and to keep anyone who dared to steal her fragile flower at bay. Or dead._

_"Oh, Eugene..."_

_"What was that, dear?"_

_ She sighed. She might as well fess up, besides, why would she be denied a tiny little request? "I want a new dress, mother."_

_"Oh?" she asked as if she only half heard her daughter._

_"A dark gray one."_

_"Why?" again, she did not seem to care._

_"To mourn Eugene."_

_ Besides, this one did not her fit properly anymore._

_"Hm. Very well, dear." she told Rapunzel, a cold laughter in her voice. She jerked the chain again, pulling the blonde from the forest to a hilled country._

_ She just wished her secret had not died with Eugene.  
_

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_[1.] Named for the BROTHERS GRIMM! Aren't I smart?_

Is there any particular _reason_ all of the quotation marks wound up as O's with little symbols over them when I uploaded the document?


	2. Chapter 2

Divergence.

(Disclaimed.)

_Note: I am warning you. And I am warning you RIGHT NOW. The rating is going to go up. And I mean that. It is. Not now, and not in chapter three. But it is. It is going to get dark and scary ahead, some of you will tear up. Some of you may even cry. If _I _do not start crying at some point, I have failed._

_Also, we are going to cross over. A lot. With at least four things so far. This is going to be emotionally trying and a huge undertaking._

_And it's all for you!_

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Chapter two:

There was a lot to be said for blindness. When I first felt the sun on my face after all those days of laying in a dark room, it felt so pleasant and reassuring I wanted to start crying. Still, tears mean nothing if blinking them away does nothing to improve your vision.

But if I could see, I doubt the sun would be so beautiful. This feeling of warmth spreading across my skin reminded me of Blondie. It was almost like the touch of her glowing hair. Only problem was, even after hours of standing in the sun I would still be blind, and my skin would be peeling and burned for days afterwards.

The door creaked open behind me, and I heard the heavy thud of boots come into the room, with out turning I said, "Atilla."

"How can you tell?" his voice echoed in his helmet.

"I smell sugar." I said.

That, and the color brown that hung heavily over the Snugly Duckling. Sugar smelled slightly off-white, perhaps a light pink. I never would know, I am sure. Regardless, sugar seemed to cling to Atilla, and I could always identify him as such.

I could also smell breakfast, but I did not want to eat anything. Not while Blondie and her wicked mother were out there, somewhere, traveling through the world with out a single friend.

"You're adapting well." he told me.

I reached a hand to my blind eyes. He was right to say so, but I still disliked the harsh truth. I could not recover. I could only _adapt._

"I want to leave." I told him, still not turning around. Before I had lost my sight, sunlight turned the blackness of my eyelids red. Now, I was still cloaked in darkness.

"No." Atilla told me, "You can't go. Come here and have your breakfast."

"I don't want to eat." I insisted, "I want to leave."

I knew he was frowning at me. Not because I could see it (even with sight, I never could see his face) but because I heard a sigh echo through his helmet and whistle through the gaps in the black metal.

"The Stabbington Brothers escaped." he said it as if it would convince me to stay. As if stepping out would immediately invite their wrath. It would, of course, and it would have consequences if they were not miles away, escorting Rapunzel and her mother though the forests.

"All the more reason to leave!" I told him sharply, turning around, "They are with her! That witch hired them!"

"Flynn..."

_Eugene_ would just lay here feeling sorry for himself. I crossed my arms and wondered if my glare was any more intimidating now that my eyes were a mess of cuts and white. I was fairly certain because of the second sigh that came from Atilla that I was failing miserably in trying to convince him that I was ready to leave. _Flynn Ryder_ would pick himself up and keep going, blind or not, Blondie was worried about me, she was probably giving me up for dead.

The longer I waited here, the worse it would get for the both of us. What if I got there and it was too late? That it did not matter if Rapunzel was alive or not, and I found her mother combing the hair of a skull?

I shuddered. Even blind, I could imagine that.

I knew there was no point in resisting or spurning their help and concern. What would I do? Manage on my own? Only a sadist (or the witch) would find that amusing or funny. Though I wanted to be able to manage on my own, I knew independence was no longer an option.

I still hated that I had to rely to Atilla to help me eat, and Hook Hand to deliver the latest news from the city, and Big-nose to keep me company. I was trapped in darkness, and though I knew their help and consolation was sincere, I could not help but feel that it was fake. This was probably the old firewall for disappointment I had built up. I was blind. No matter what happened, not matter what they said I _knew_ things could not get better. Still, I knew I did not have much further to fall now, that was a little consolation, too.

There was a lot to be said for blindness, but most of it was bad.

You know that feeling when someone comes up behind you and throws a bag over your head, and for a moment everything is dark, until you see the light piercing the weave? Or when you take the stairs in darkness, and you are so sure there is another step, but there is not, so you feel like you will fall forever until your misguided foot reaches the landing? Or when you wake up from a nightmare, and you were so sure it was real, that you do not recognize your own bedroom, and suddenly the nightmare stops, leaving you with nothing, but you cannot move? That is blindness, that one half second right there, stretched out for ever. All of the fear and dread and anger smeared over your entire life.

Only, the light never pokes through, and the landing never catches you, and you still feel paralyzed, even if you have been awake for hours. When I wake up, I still reach for matches and a candle, thinking that I cannot see because of the lack of light. By feel, I can strike a match (because I have always been able to do that), and wait for my surroundings to become visible. By the time I remember I cannot see, my fingers have been burnt. Time and time again this happens.

It does not help that I can see in my dreams. I can see Blondie smiling and laughing wearing a white dress, and running though the forest before me. She sings her healing incantation, so loud and clear it echoes off of the mountains surrounding us. And all of nature chimes in, taking the long strands of her hair and spreading it out, so that it reached out around her in a circle. It lit up the world once the light reached the tips of her hair, making the trees and the flowers glow, like little streams of gold ran up and down them.

But sometimes, I have terrible dreams. Rapunzel is not singing. She does not do much of anything, aside keep to herself and stare at nothing. She wears black in those dreams, but a sort of poor, dead, dark gray. Pascal is the same color. The true hue of mourning. Like storm clouds at night, the kind that are sure to bring destruction. It is her mother that sings in those dreams, and Rapunzel weeps like with every word a shard of ice being driven into her chest.

I want to believe the first is reality.

But I know it is the second.

I want to stop dreaming.

But I know I that is all I have left.

Atilla left me sitting at the table, alone with my memories of Rapunzel, and my resignation to my uselessness. I wished I was there with her. I wished I had died, so I could merely leave this place and let my spirit hover beside her forever. I could find a way to help her be strong. Maybe even to be happy.

After all, having this body was useless if I could never see her again.

But, seeing her again would be pointless with out a physical body.

What a choice.

I sighed and wished I could watch the sun travel across the sky to pass the time. I rose to my feet and made the short journey across the room. This was not like fumbling around in the darkness. This was worse. It was irreversible. I could not blindly search for a light source.

I sat down in the chair Big-nose had moved by the window for me. I think I was starting to memorize where everything was, because my estimates as to where I was in the room were getting better. I could hear birds calling to one another, and the horses below my window. Max was still among them, waiting for me to decide to get up and keep going.

I could not. I could not leave his health in the hands of a blind man. What if he was hurt? What if he got sick? What could I do to help him? I knew next to nothing about how to care for a horse as is. Blind I was even more useless.

Still, I should get up. The doctors said the shock to my system had worn off. Which is, while my mind had not grown accustomed to being blind, my body had. I had thought 'shock' was a fake condition when I first heard of it. I had thought it was weakness: denial, self-pity, sloth. I had been right, of course. I had just underestimated the power of of them, as I found out when I first woke up and attempted to walk. I had fallen over easily. I had claimed it was merely the ether combined with the fact that I could not see.

Flynn Ryder, after all, is not one for denial, self-pity, and sloth. He is a man of action. Of getting up and carrying on._ Eugene _was the one to let a little shock to his system slow him down. He was the one that used depression as an excuse to abandon Rapunzel.

Which I had done.

I had to send Max back to the palace. There was no point in his remaining here. If I was going anywhere. I was going alone, so no one aside from myself would suffer from my blindness.

I got to my feet again and walked towards the door. I had tried many times in the past week and a half to leave in the middle of the night. Hook Hand had always made sure the door was locked. However, I knew that it was unlocked during the day, because there was a constant flow of traffic in and out to make sure I had not hung myself or done something else equally foolish and deadly.

My hand found the door knob. I knew my boots were somewhere nearby, so steadying myself on the wall, I searched for them. My first try I found I had gotten them wrong, and the right boot ended up on the left foot. I could not help but laugh as I switched it, and nearly fell trying to pull the left one on.

I caught myself on the door knob and let my head swim to a stop, it took a while, but eventually it settled. I swung the door open and stepped out into the hallway. I followed the noise and my memory to the stairs, leaning heavily on the banister I slowly walked down into the din of the pub, and staggered at the landing, (because I was certain there was another stair!). It was hotter on the lower floor, probably because chaos tended to produce heat, and there were lamps lit to keep the place bright.

"Ryder!"

Before I could judge where the voice of Hook-Hand came from, there was a hand on my shoulder.

"What are you doing up?"

"I want to see the horse."

He was certain I was up to something, I could tell by his voice, "All right."

He steered me through the small brawls and boasts of the Snugly Duckling, out of the brown and dim din and into the clear green of the forest. Almost at once, I heard Maximus trotting towards me. I laid one hand on his neck and walked away from the pub.

Maximus seemed to think we were leaving. I could feel the excitement and energy though my fingers. He was waiting for me to call someone to help put his saddle and bridle on. He was waiting for me to give him a direction and gallop off in search of love and leads.

"I'm sending you back to the palace, Max."

Then, suddenly, he was devastated.

"It's for the best." I told him, trying to sound confident, even if I was quickly being filled with dread, "You have your owner, and it's not me. It's the Captain of the Guard, you being here is only going to get me accused of being a horse theif."

He was probably giving me that _either way, you're still going to get hanged_ look, even if I could not see it. He was right. Horse thief, crown theif, the penalty was death. The way he whinnied seemed to say _you know you need me._

"Max, I know I need you." I confessed with a sigh, "But if something happens to you, I won't be of any help to you. You're better off back at the palace. I'm better off dead."

Once for no. A very angry, very stubborn no.

"Look. Say I have Hook Hand write a letter? One explaining what happened and how the mirror shard could be used to find Rapunzel. You think you could convince your owner to go in my place?"

Once for no. That _no one will believe it._ And_ no one will read it. _Probably even _no one will even see it._

I rested my forehead against his neck, "Don't try to convince me." I told him. Then I let go and stepped away, "Go back to the palace, Max. Try to forget about what's happened."

He followed me loyally.

"It's in the past." my foot caught a root that had grown above the surface, and Max whinnied in shock and concern. I regained my balance easily and started running on a snap decision. I heard Hook Hand call my name, and Max braying for help.

Even blind, I was fast, and soon the Snugly Duckling was behind me. I was surrounded by the fragrance of the forest and the earth, and it was quiet, even with the breeze blowing and the birds chirping, it felt as if everything was dead still. Perhaps it was just the sound of my breathing and pounding heart drowning everything out.

I curled up. Hopeless. Useless. I knew Max would find me. He would probably bring Hook Hand with him, and the two of them would drag me back to the Snugly Duckling. Where I would be lectured like a child and kept under constant supervision.

I sighed. They were only trying to help. And they were probably right to keep me locked up. After all, I was helpless on my own, if something happened to me, they would probably feel terrible about it. It was awful of me to put that kind of guilt on their conscience. I should not do it.

If I could see I would have looked behind me. I supported myself on the tree I had chosen to rest under and got to my feet. I knew it was better to wait until Max found me. I could not see a thing. There could be a gaping hole and a fatal fall right at my toes, and I would never know it until I was plummeting to my death.

I heard Maximus hastily trotting along. I did not move, even as I heard him coming closer to me. Running would do no good. He steered me back the way I had come, and I did not utter a word in protest. He was furious with me. Shame on Flynn, getting in over his head again. _Eugene_ should know better. He lead me to a clearing (I could tell because I could feel the sunlight on my skin) and moved so that the horn of the saddle was under my fingers.

I searched blindly. A could feel the Captain of the Guards spare saber. All of his things, as well as supplies for a trip, strapped to Maximus' back.

"No." I told him flatly.

Twice for yes, and an eager neigh accompanied by a toss of his mane.

"No." I said sternly, "Unless this is good-bye."

Once for no. _You listen to _me,_ Ryder!_

"I'll ride you up to the palace myself!" I told him. I realized it was an empty threat, because I could not exactly get myself there, let alone him, when I could not see. Still, I swung myself into the saddle, "Come on, it's this way."

But I really was not sure.

He trotted off in the direction I told him, but I knew full well he was going to disobey me soon. I let him make his own way, hoping he was follow his instincts home, but suspecting I had just accidentally set off in search of Rapunzel. And I was glad of it, too.

We did not travel far when Max reared up and whinnied in surprise. I could hear another horse galloping along ahead of us, so I pulled back in the reigns, "Woah, boy!"

He turned around tried to bolt. Suddenly fearful, I wrapped the reigns around one hand to take up the slack and reached for the sword. I jerked the reigns back to keep him still, gripping him with my knees to keep from being thrown off.

"What the hell, Max?" I hissed to myself. I wished he could speak.

"Maximus?"

The horse tensed and turned, then whinnied and shook his head.

"Ryder?"

I knew that voice! Something echoed in the back of my head, as if I was running an involuntary comparison, '_Let's get this over with Ryder.'_ It must be the Captain of the Guard.

"Well... Yes." I said, trying to force Maximus to face his master, "Come _on,_ Max!"

He tried to bolt again.

"No!" I told him firmly, "You have to go home. What better way to get there than going with him. Now hold still so I can... I said hold still!"

"Ryder... Your eyes..."

I turned my blind eyes to his, and felt a little light hit my face. It must have painted a terrible picture, because even the unshakable Captain of the Guard made a small noise in disgust. Maximus finally settled down, but I could tell by the tightness in his entire body that he was preparing to duel him for me. I was prepared to throw the sword so he could catch it in his mouth.

It would be difficult to stay on his back if it came to that, of course.

"What happened?"

"Well, you remember how I stole the crown, right?"

"Don't rub it in."

Maximus' head turned. He was was most likely giving that _no shit, genius_ look of his. The Captain of the Guard was probably giving me the same look. I rubbed the back of my neck and wished I could see, "Well, you lost me in the forest after. You lost Max, too, if you would recall."

_You're still rubbing it in, Ryder._

"I fail to see how this leads up to—"

"It's a long story." I told him. But because time goes slowly when you cannot see, and because I could sense he was curious, I explained it. Everything. Trying to make it sound as believable as I could. From the theft of the crown and the betrayal of the Stabbington Brothers, to Blondie and her seventy feet of hair and her tower (and her beautiful eyes). To the deal she made with me. And the deal her mother made with the Stabbington Brothers. And, finally to the last episode with the tower, where her mother showed her abilities of witchcraft, and how I was blinded by broken glass and thorns.

Maximus was nodding the entire time. I wished I could see the Captain of the Guard's reactions. After all, it was a fairly outlandish story, and I had the sinking suspicion he though I was leading up to some great punch line. I hoped I could look honest when there was nothing to my eyes at all any more.

When I finished my story, I heard him dismount his horse, and I heard a chain clinking. He was not amused. "You expect me to believe that?"

"Of course not!" I shook my head, "I expect you to take Max back and have me hanged, while Rapunzel lives a long lonely life, and is only loved for her magic hair."

"Magic... hair?" He stopped in his tracks

That seemed to strike something. A memory, maybe. Perhaps he had hear rumors that there was in fact a girl with healing hair in the area.

"Yes, but I fail to see how it is of any consequence now."

"Do you mean to tell me, you know where a girl with healing hair is? Or... was, up until a few weeks ago."

This could end badly. "... Yes."

"Is this true, Maximus?"

He whinnied.

"Say I let you go." he said, circling around the two of us, "How do you propose she would be found?"

Flynn Ryder decided it was time to tell the truth, but Eugene wanted to lie. I do not know how Flynn managed to win that argument. "All I have to go on is this." I reached into my pocket and took out the shard of glass, "A shard of a mirror. It may be magic, but it may just be a ordinary piece of glass."

He took it from me. Most likely to inspect it and pocket it. "I can take this to the court alchemist. He may be able to provide some insight."

"Wait a minute!" I blindly reached for my only link to Rapunzel. I nearly toppled out of the saddle, but he caught me, "You're just after her hair! I can't just let you—"

"You are under arrest, Flynn Ryder." he told me, "But, you are lucky. I will let you tell your story to the King and Queen — they may decide to delay your execution for a while."

"What?"

A cuff slapped around my wrist. Then he snatched up my other hand and cuffed them together. I heard a chain being clasped around Maximus' saddle horn. The Captain lead us back to the Capital City, where we threaded our way through the streets and up to the palace. Where, after waiting quite a long time, I recited the entire thing over again, this time, apparently, to the King and Queen.

The cuffs were heavy around my wrists, and my neck ached by the end of it from delivering the entire story on my knees with my head bowed. A deathly silence followed the end of my story, and I expected the first thing to happen was for the King to rise and order my immediate execution. It would serve me right for making him feel like a fool.

But apparently he was speechless, because the first thing I heard was a woman's voice. "I believe him."

"S-surely you can't be serious?"

"I am serious." she said. I heard her standing up and walking towards me. She helped me to my feet and I sensed she was inspecting my face, I could feel her hand on my cheek and hearing her hum in thought.

"Come here, Ivander, and look." she said, "These cuts are about a week old, and I highly doubt they are self-inflicted. Certainly you heard the servants talking about what the latest buzz in town a week or so ago?"

"What?"

"What was it your men said then?" she must have turned away from me and addressed the Captain of the Guard, "Oh, yes, they were pursuing Flynn Ryder in the city, he had a blonde girl with him. It was unknown at the time if she was a hostage or an accomplice, or perhaps just a friend. Due to the fact that only two cupcakes were stolen, no real chase was given, so the girl's life would not be endangered."

"Y-yes ma'am."

"And she looked to have oddly long hair, braided and secured with flowers."

"Yes."

"When this story was investigated, I seem to recall — now, I only _skimmed_ the report — that four little girls said they had in fact met a young lady with... extremely long hair. At the request of the man she was traveling with — who matched the description of Ryder — they braided it."

"That does not make the ludicrous tale about the tower true!" The king rose to his feet and walked over to the three of us, "Josephine, I demand to see this tower!"

"But it's gone." she said for me.

"Yes." the King hissed, "How convenient."

"Sarcasm has no place in the fate of a young lady. Don't you see darling? Blonde hair, green eyes, eighteen years of age... and her _birthday_ Ivander." The Queen hissed quickly walking back to him, "Think about it for just a moment, my dear."

"Josie, you know it is hopeless."

The Queen was obviously not listening, "And what about the dam? Same girl, yes, captain?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Everything else he told us was true. Why would he suddenly lie about a witch? Now, Ryder, about this mirror shard, where is it — Oh!"

I heard the Captain's armor clink as he moved and held out the shard of glass.

"Summon the alchemist immediately." the Queen said. I could hear her move as if holding it up to the light. I could feel the beam reflecting onto my face.

A servant scurried away, and some time later the alchemist came to us. The mirror shard must have transferred hands, because I heard and old man mutter, "Most impressive." several times over and over again. "I will have to take this to my lab." he said at length, "If it would please Your Majesties to watch the experiment, they may come with me."

"It would please me very much!" the Queen said. She unlocked the cuffs around my wrists. "Come, Flynn Ryder."

I was carefully lead down stairs, with the Queen encouraging me on as any good mother would. She held my arm and I held onto the banister, but we managed to hold everyone up, for which I was truly sorry. The longer I took, the further away Rapunzel was being taken. Unless she and her sorceress mother had found their new prison, in which case the further into madness she was falling.

Eventually, though, we reached the alchemists lab, and took seats where ever we could find them. I heard the court alchemist clearing a place on his desk for the shard and opening drawers quickly, and shutting them just as fast. I wondered what he was setting on the desk aside from the shard, but no one said a word.

The alchemist started to explain, "Now, if this is indeed a magic mirror, even if it shatters, it _should_ repair itself with in a matter of seconds. Take a hammer. An ordinary hammer..."

"Wait!" I found myself blurting out, "What if it does not repair itself? That's the only way I have of finding her... and..."

The alchemist sighed, "If it does not repair itself, then it is not magic. There is not a spell or process around that does not produce a mirror that is either indestructible, or capable of mending itself. Ah, but I will humor you. Queen Josephine, if you will."

The Queen stood up and left my side. I heard her walk toward the desk, "You will notice that no matter where I put it, the point is always facing the same direction."

I heard him sliding it around and turning it. Perhaps it was always turning in a same direction.

"Yes. I see that. You propose it points to the mirror?"

"Yes, your ladyship."

"Excellent!" I hissed, "We have a shard that points to the whole, and the one meant to follow it is blind."

"I am not going to send a blind man on his own!" the Queen said, laughing a little at the thought, "Lawrence is going with you."

"Who?"

"Your Highness cannot be serious!" the Captain of the Guard exclaimed, standing up, "He stole a crown, and countless other things, and you are letting him run loose? You are letting the fate of the Princess rest in his hands?"

"Princess?" I stood up suddenly, "No, you've got you're facts wrong there, Your Majesty. Rapunzel... She..."

_Had tried to tell me something when I first came back to her tower._ I had never let her finish her sentence. What had she tried to say? She was... the lost something. Suddenly, it hit me, like an icy hand. Rapunzel was the lost princess? Yes. I had walked past that mosaic several times as a child. Green eyes. Blonde hair. Same birthday.

"Oh, no..."

"Yes, Ryder." the Queen said, taking my hands, "I will release you for the moment. Just for now, you may take the mirror and try to find Rapunzel with the help of the Captain, or you may not. If you ever return to Corona, please return with my daughter."

* * *

_I feel like I did _bad_ on the editing for this chapter. I kept getting distracted and actually reading it. What the heck?_


	3. DO NOT PANIC!

My most beloved readers,

I am terribly selfish. I am sorry I have made you wait three weeks for this message: Divergence is currently on hold until I can watch Tangled again. I need to be inspired.

To make the wait worth your while, here are some spoilers:

crossovers/references will include:

Europe/Middle East:

- Pirates of the Caribbean: At least, Will Turner will show up. There will be a reference to Elizabeth. Jack Sparrow will probably not make an appearance. That would just be waaaaaay to much. No. I cannot be swayed. Calypso, too.

- Princess and the Frog (Naveen's ancestor, at least)

- Aladdin: Appearances will be made by the Genie, the oracle, and Aladdin's descendants. (Eugene INCLUDED!)

- Beauty and the Beast: Eugene has a fairly expansive lineage.

- the Little Mermaid: I have yet to work out the details.

Meso America:

-The Road to El Dorado. Don't ask. Just giggle with anticipation.

Asia:

Asia is pretty shaky right now. Which means "I have a great idea and I do not want to share it with you." I do not know how Eugene and co. will wind up there, but I know how Rapunzel will.

- Mulan: Mushu will be working as a "guardian for hire."

- requests acceptable.

Africa:

-The Snows of Kilimanjaro: "The Frozen Leopard."

-Yes, _That_ "The Snows of Kilimanjaro."

-Possibly in conjunction with the Lion King.

- Castle in the Sky: Because I really wanna see Eugene and Rapunzel in Laputa.

- requests acceptable.

As you can see, Eugene is supposed to wander around the _whole fricken WORLD_ in search of Rapunzel.

Requests are open for any other reference you would like to see. This is your story as well as mine. Make requests, it is only fair.

Some other spoilers:

- Eugene's Father will show up, but not exactly be involved.

- The shard of the mirror will give Eugene visions.

-Gothel will be killed by (SPOILERSPOILERSPOILER!)

- "The Adventures of Gothel In Hell." will be almost as expansive as Eugene's story. In which Gothel manipulates things behind the scenes to aid (SPOILERSPIOLERSPOILER!)

-Interestingly enough, almost everyone (Everyone except (SPOILER!)) gets a happy ending.

Concerning requests:

Either give me a Private Message, or an anonymous review. I would prefer a PM, because then I could bounce ideas off of you. I will also be able to give full credit regarding the idea/plot point. Anonymous reviews will be considered, of course, just not likely to make the final product.

Please, be practical. Consider the time period and the plot of the story. Do not say "Jaws" "Saw" "The Human Centipede" ext. just to be funny. Unless you are actually prepared to back it up, (For instance, if you really want to see Eugene vs. The Grudge, you had better be prepared to help me out, because I am _not_ watching The Grudge_._) keep your trolling mouth shut.

Try to be as specific as possible. I am more than capable of thinking of something, but I want to do your request justice. Partly because this will turn into a summer project if I have to read, watch, and study everything you request.

Things I would like:

Local folk lore (particularly of Africa and Asia): I live in America, our supernatural tales are not as fantastic as other, older countries. If you do give me folk lore, please be a specific as possible, and include the country.

Other movies, preferably ones that are family-friendly and easy to get my hands on. I am not all knowing. I realize I have left out a great many Disney films, there are possibly more I am unfamiliar with, Disney and not-Disney.

Anything else is perfectly welcome. I will probably not turn you down with out hearing you out first, so don't be shy.

-also, I realize I have left myself wide open to spam. Kindly refrain from such activities.

Until next we meet, Cheddar Biscuit.


	4. Chapter 3

Divergence.

(Disclaimed.)

I. AM. CHEDDARBISCUIT. HEAR—ME—ROAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!

-e-herm...-

Requests are still open.

* * *

Chapter three:

Every orphan Eugene had met in Corona thought to themselves at least once: _I'll find her. I'll bring her home, and I'll finally know my place._ The fact that he read the tales of a genre-savvy hero to them had probably facilitated this. I seemed to recall that he had thought of how great it would be to receive recognition as a hero, not a theif.

Flynn never thought he would _almost_ do it unwittingly, then fail.

He never thought he would try _again_.

Yet, here I was, the Queen riding on one side, and the Captain on the other side. A good bit of the army and the Queen's retinue followed us. Maximus held himself like the proud war horse he was. I never felt so small and powerless before. Everyone cheered as if they could not see that I was blind.

The mirror shard rested in the Queen's hands, locked away in a large compass made just for this occasion. When last she checked, it was pointing south west. Across the mediteranian, possibly into Africa. Knowing a Sorceress's lust for secrecy, she was probably even further than that, carving out a settelment somewhere in the new world. She would say if it changed direction again. I followed like the blind beggar I was, pulled along the flow of the procession. I had no idea where we were. Somewhere near the border between Carona and Germany, still. We would probably be near Germany for quite some time.

Josephine was not one to remain silent, and I could not blame her, travel was boring, and talking eased the torture of endless bland hours under the hot sun. She prattled on about vacationing out in the countryside and her childhood with her great aunt, a swedish noble, about how she had met Ivander when she was six and how Lawrence had been born in Sweden as well. I hardly listened, some times the Captain responded with details of his own, of how he had left Sweden as soon as possible and had gone to Corona, and I got the feeling this conversation was especially guided to a certain, enevitable topic: Me.

"And what about you, Flynn?"

Jackpot. Flynn had seen it coming and Eugene had dreaded it. My hands tightened on the saddle horn (I had not picked up the reigns because I was not leading) so they _knew_ I had been following the conversation halfway, but I fiegned ignorance, "I'm sorry, what? I—I'm afraid I was not listening."

"Where did you grow up?" the Queen repeated calmly.

"Oh, um, various places. M-mostly northern France."

"I thought you were French!" she said, "How old are you? Eighteen? Nineteen?"

"S-seventeen."

"Younger than you look." Lawrence said thoughtfully. I could tell by his tone and the silence that followed he was supposed to ask something else, but had backed out. Josephine sighed lightly, I could feel her apprehension, like static in the air. The curiosity was killing her, it was killing Lawrence, too, but he kept it to himself. But I could feel it. I knew it was coming and I could even feel _Max_ tensing up.

I frowned, but tried not to let it show. I knew where this was going. I knew what they were going to ask about. I tried to hate them for it but I knew they were only trying to help. My family. They were going to ask about my heritage and I _knew it._

She used a slightly less obvious phrase, though, "Who raised you?"

"Orphanage."

My answers were becoming too quick, too mechanical and I _knew_ they noticed. I heard the Queen draw closer to me, as if by hearding my physically she could do so phychologically. I would show _her_ a thing or two. I locked my jaw and would have looked up the path if I could see, but I could not, so I just fixed my blind eyes on what I thought was Maximus' neck. After a pause she asked, "Never knew your parents, then?"

I should have said no and I should have let Flynn Ryder lie. I wanted to and I knew it was the best thing, for all of us, but instead I blurted out, "I don't want to talk about it."

It was Eugene. It was all Eugene in a pathetic cry for attention and help. Flynn Ryder wanted to strangle him and I knew that he was right to do it, but I held him back, because it was awkward when they got into arguments. Well it was out that I _did_ know something, and I had better make _damn_ sure Eugene did not tell them. Ever. It was a secret. A deadly, terrible secret that had almost gotten me killed and I was _not_ going down that road again.

"Flyn—"

"I _said_ I do not want to talk about it."

"V-very well." she said softly, drawing her horse away again, "Do forgive me, Flynn, I was only trying to get to know you."

"It's not a story to tell a woman of noble standing."

"Try me."

"I—I don't want to."

Silence. Cold, pressing silence that cut into my mind and served as a buffer against the sunlight. The conversation had come to a halt, and as much as I wanted to feel bad, I could not bring myself too. How long has it been? Two days I had known them? One day I had known Rapunzel and all she had gotten was my name, but I knew better than to tell _them_ my name was Eugene Fitzherbert. That name was a brand. It was a glaringly obvious mark on my past and my fate, a mark Blondie had not been able to recognize, but every last soul in this caravan could, and they _would_. And it would be my undoing.

They had the mirror shard. I needed they way more than they did me, no one would want a bastard child claiming the title of hero. Maybe Josephine would see things diffirently, but she would be more eager to save face than anything. It would not really be personal, just business. Flynn Ryder was a thin teather keeping me tied to Rapunzel. A fake reputation. Eugene was the man behind the man, nothing more. He would better serve everyone by keeping his trap shut.

And he did, but part of me suspected it was only because The Queen and the Captain did not speak another word about the subject, and let me fade back into my own thoughts. Which did not consist of much, I tried to push thoughts of Blondie from my mind, because I had figured out that thinking about her would fill me with a sense of black panic and my heart would race. It was too difficult to get myself to calm down and I _knew_ flying into hysterics every time I thought of her was _not_ good for my heath.

I knew she was all right physically. She was a smart kid and her False Mother would not be quick to lose her. The sorceress was probably watching her like a hawk. She probably _knew_ letting the Stabbington Brothers come along for the ride was not a good choice, but she also knew it was better than having _me_ along. I tried to figure why that was, but Mother Gothel must figure I would be more likely to kill her to free Rapunzel, or at least be more determined. As long as she compromised a lot, she might actually pull an alliance with the Stabbington Brothers off, or she might kill them at the first sign of trouble.

But Jacob and Wilhelm were crafty, no matter how stupid they looked. And they were strong. That witch had better sleep with one eye open for her sake as well as Rapunzel's, because what would happen to Blondie when they had killed her Mother? Face it, that witch was the _one_ thing keeping her safe at the moment, and as much as I hated her, I knew keeping her alive was pretty crucial to getting Rapunzel back to Carona in one piece physically and mentally.

My heart was starting to pound again as my mind ran though vision after horrible vision of the future, divergence from the set path fate had laid out for us. No. No this was not how things were meant to be, but maybe I had screwed up along time ago, maybe if I had never met her at all this never would have happened and things would have been okay. She would be trapped, but stuck in a tower was _worlds_ better than living at the mercy of the Stabbington Brothers. There were more terrifying than any witch. More terrifying by a long shot.

Jacob on his own was fine. Jacob could talk and manipulate anyone, but I had always suspected the _real_ danger was Wilhelm. He never spoke a word, and always did exactly what Jacob instructed, no matter now sick and twisted it was. I had never figured out if it was unquestioning loyalty or that _he_ was the mastermind. Sometimes, it seemed that Jacob was in control, but other times it seemed like Wilhelm was the real puppetmaster and Jacob was just his mouthpiece. I could not tell, and it scared the hell out of me.

_Stop thinking about it_. I reminded myself, _You can't do a damn thing by freaking out._

But I could not stop. All of these terrible futures kept pounding on my brain like an angry debt collector and the images were crystal clear because I had no _real_ sight to distract me. I kept my breathing steady and tried to focus on the black void in front of me and I could not think of anything else for a moment aside from what would happen if we screwed up. What would happen if she went overseas and our ship sank on the crossing, or _their_ ship sank, so that some very confused fishermen pulled her downed, boated body up on deck. What would happen if the Stabbington Brothers sold her for quick cash and kidnapped her back, after the gold was gone, and skipping from town to town leaving a trail of death in their wake.

And what would happen if they desided to have a little fun with her between selling her off and killing her owners.

I tried not to think about it, because I suspected that thinking about it too much would make it come true, because the Fates were sadists and they acted like all lingering thoughts were wishes, even if they were nightmares. What else could I think about? Who I was?

How my mother had been a whore and how she had died in a drunken stupor as soon as I was old enough to have the event ingrained in my head? How my father, upon learning that he had sired an illigitimate son had tried to have me killed to keep the family image intact? How I had a half brother that was the same age as me but _was not_ born out of wedlock and had the world handed to him on a silver platter?

How I had to live with the fact that I was nothing more than the after affects of a _business transaction_. How my parents had met one night on a random chance and how they never even _cared_ about each other? No, she was not even his _mistress_. He did not even have an _inkling_ of affection for her. I had lived my entire life under that weight, and no one seemed to understand that being a bastard was just as painful to be as he was shameful to look at. Everyone seemed to think I could not figure it out on my own, that I was a disgrace and I had never been wanted and—

_Stop it._ Flynn hissed_, Stop it. Those days are a memory._

But I could not stop. I could not think of the personal hell Rapunzel was going through, it caused useless panic. I had to focus on my own. I could dwell on the past and even if it was as painful as the future, it was not terrifying.

They never actually saw each other again after that, and he never even knew I was alive, until some clever son of a bitch had desided to use me as leverage? I was just a unwitting pawn in a game of extrotion. And that _hurt._ It was bad enough that my parents were not married, and never even cared to be, never even tought about it or tried, but my father was _imporant._

And I just happened to look like him.

That hurt even more.

He did not care about me, my mother, not even the consequence of his actions. Sometimes I had even looked at him standing there with his _recognized_ son and I had wondered if he had even cared about _him_. He never said a word. Not a damn word to the kid. He just stood there like he owned so much more than his little province in France and like he did not even have to care about the _one_ thing he _should_ care about.

That hurt. You _know_ you're misrable when you feel sorry for your rich-as-milk-and-honey half brother who would never give you a second thought if he had to oversee your execution.

Sometimes? Sometimes I had _wanted_ to make them watch me hang. I had always imagined it, as the noose was pulled tight around my neck I would fix them with a steely gaze and I would shout, "You're my father." And everyone would do a double take and wonder if it could possibly be ture, but they would look at his face, then and mine and they would not be able to deny that we were nearly identical.

Then maybe, instead of hireing an arsonist or a hitman, he would get off of his throne and he would have the _gaul_ to kill me with his own hands. Maybe he would even curse my name and denoune my mother for the slut she was. No one would respect him after that. No one. It would have been good revenge, but I knew it would never happen. Flynn Ryder was too good to get caught, especially in his own city, and if he ever did, Eugene would be too cowardly to say anything.

The Queen's voice had interrupted my thoughts."He's hiding something."

As much as I hated to know they were on to me, it was good to have something to distract me.

"I know." The captain replied.

"He's hiding something _big._"

"I think he is worried about Rapunzel."

Judging by the sound of their voices, they were far ahead of me, far enough to believe they were out of earshot, but my hearing had gotten better when my sight had been stolen from me, I did not let them know I could hear them.

"You're probably right." she said, "Still, this new dynamic to his character is good, yes?"

"Explain?"

"Something even the bold Flynn Ryder fears to discuss. An interesting thought, no?"

"Interesting? Yes. Something we should pry into? No."

"True, true. You must sympathize."

"Of course, don't you?"

"Yes."

"So why ask?"

"What?" The Queen replied, "Too soon?"

"Possibly."

"I _would_ alienate him, wouldn't I? And that _would_ be silly. But waiting only makes the itch worse, you know."

"Yes."

"They have a cream for concernitis, of course. It made from mixing two parts unpleasant suprise with one part ugly truth and a pinch of leaning-something-you-rather-would-not for an added burn."

"Yes, well, I suggest you find some." The Captain grumbled, "You're not pleasant when you're like this."

She laughed and I did not hear another word out of her for quite some time. I could not tell if she was giving me the silent treatment or if she was actively trying to make a point of _not_ heckling me. I was more grateful for it than I was anything else, in all honesty, and I tried to feel bad about pushing her away, I really did, but Eugene knew it was for the best and Flynn did not care if it was beneficial or not, he just wanted to do it.

I did not hear anything from the Captain, either, and that was really what worried me. It but Flynn on edge and made Eugene misrable. I could not imagine why either one of them would _care_ if the Captain paid me any mind, he was around to keep the caravan from getting attacked by brighands and I _assumed_ that was what he aimed to do.

_You must sympathize._

I gasped and sat up strait as the Queen's words echoed in my head, then I fumed for being so blind. I was worried and I did not know _why_? Well, there was my answer! I wished I could look towards the Captain, but I was reminded yet again that I was blind.

_You must sympathize._

Maybe Eugene Fitzherbert was not the _only_ bastard child in the world. Sometimes, he forgot that. Flynn Ryder let him, and I never actually forced him to remember because I did not like remembering that I _myself_ was illegitimate.

The company had come to a halt now, and I wondered how I had thought the entire day away, dwelling on the past, but I could feel the setting sun's heat clashing with nightfall's cool and I heard a voice behind me, "Ryder?"

It was the Captain. It was the first word I had heard him say in several hours, so I desided to answer, after all, it was not like they had been bugging me all day. "Yes?"

"Might I... Have a word?"

I had swung my leg over Maximus' saddle and I was poised to slide down, but I was only staring into a black void and I could not see the ground. I was overcome by a terrible feeling of vertigo and helplessness, but I took a deep breath and closed my eyes out of habit and slid down. My foot caught a rock and I tumbled, nearly twisting my ankle, I grabbed Max's neck and let the void around me spin for a second, then said as cooly as I could, "Sure."

"I suspect that there is more to your story than just the Princess."

'I said I—"

"I know what you said." he told me, calmly, "But I—"

Flynn Ryder suddenly took control and shouted, defensive, "Are you calling me a liar?"

"There is a term for it, yes, but it is not _lying_. In my line of work, it is called _withholding_."

"Well, —" I started, trying to divert his attention. I heard him cross his arms, and I knew he was frowning at my ignorance. I could out run him, but when it came to interrogation, he was the master and he was going to let me _know_ I could not outwit him. And he was right. I had never been caught and interrogated before, I was lucky he did not desided to use _torture_ to get me to confess my past.

But instead of grabbing my arm and twisting it behind me or jamming his dagger under my thumbnail, he just said, "But here, you are not under oath. You can withhold all you want."

"... Thank you."

"I want you to know that I could understand why you would not want to bother the Queen with such matters." he said to me, "But I am not a woman of noble standing, I have lived long enough. I know the diffrence between a bad person and a bad past. Forgive me for caring. If you would prefer you can just pretend it is little more than curiosity."

Neither one of us had moved. I kept my hands were they had fallen on Max's saddle horn, but I no longer held it in a white-knuckled grip. I would guess that Lawrence was about two feet, maybe two and a half feet away from me. He extended his arm and tugged me away, not wanting to put up a fight, I followed obediently. Max did not move. He lead me about six feet away, to were we were in the thick of the hustle of setting up camp. Any step I made away with out his guidance would cause a terrible inconvenience.

And it would make me feel useless.

And he knew how much I hated that.

So I could only imagine he was smirking up a storm as he said, "But I still expect a basic explanation."

"You—" I started.

"Ryder!" he barked scoldingly.

I turned to the sound of his voice. He might not have twisted my arm but this was torture in some degree. I could not move. I could barely even stick out a hand with out someone guiding me. I was a peniless blind beggar and I could not help but accuse him of rubbing it in my face. I never said this out loud, though because he could kill me in a heart beat. He had killed _several_ common thieves before without a second thought. I was no different.

"I'm just a thief to you."

"No." his flat tone was back. A regular one man team, good cop bad cop, "I said I know the difference. You're not a bad person, are you?"

_You must sympathize._

"I suppose not." I mumbled, slanting my head downwards, "I... I suppose not."

"You could have left her in that tower." he told me, "You could have abandoned her in the city. You didn't."

"That does not mean I'm _good_." I whispered, I could feel the sun's light dissapearing completely now, and I felt even colder inside, "I-I screwed up somewhere. I screwed up and that's why we're here."

"Oh?"

He was not mocking me. He was honestly asking. I let out a breath I did not know I had been holding. Maybe it _was _because I had screwed up somewhere. Maybe if I had called out instead of going up the tower on my own... Maybe climbing those stairs had given the Witch the extra seconds she had needed to get the Stabbington Brothers, they had given her the upper hand after all.

I froze up at the sight of them. I had not been able to do anything. And she had pounced on that moment of weakness. This was my fault. I had dislodged the Fates plans. They were getting there revenge now.

I half expected The Captain to feed me some line about how I was just a teenager and I was _supposed_ to mess things up. But he did not, probably becuase he knew that even the worst teenagers could not botch things so completely. Maybe it was because he knew by the expression on my face I would not even listen to him. Instead of rudely patronizing me into a confession about my past, he just laid a gloved hand on my shoulder, "Not today, if you don't want to, Ryder. That's fine."

"Okay."

"But if you need someone to talk to, the Queen and I are here to look out for you—"

"I can take care of myself!"

That was a lie. That was a lie and I knew it. How many times had I told that blatant fucking lie in the past few days? Why did I even bother? Force of habit? I steadied my jaw and squared my shoulders and tried to _look _like it was true. I could tell by the way he sighed I was failing. Misrably.

"You are seventeen." he told me firmly, and I was glad to notice he did not say, 'and you are blind.' "When I was your age..."

He felt my muscles tighten under his hand and I stepped away, brusing the hand off. I was not going to deny that he had ever been my age (that was stupid) I was not even going to try. When he was my age he might have had parents, he might not have. It was probably the latter and I did not want to go down that road, least of all with a man that _wanted _to see me dead a few days ago.

He let me go then, and I heard the horse walking up behind me, to guide me just incase Lawrence desided not to I heard him walking away for a moment, and Eugene lept from my heart into my throat, before I could burst into tears I laid my hand on Max's fur. I found myself calling out, "Captain?"

This man should hate me. If I recalled correctly, this man _had_ hated me. I had trumped his cards time after time and I had danced circles around him. In stealing the crown I had shamed him, made him look like a fool, and before this journey had started he had treated me like no other criminal. Was a just a ticket back to good standing?

The Queen seemed to hold him highly, still, they appeared to be good friends. Why would he need this mission to prove himself again? Would he go back to destesting me once Rapunzel had been returned to Carona? Was I that disposable, even to him?

Or, did he really sympathize? Flynn knew that could not be true, but Eugene hoped and prayed with every fiber of his being that was true, and so I had to know.

"What is it, Ryder?"

I was snapped back to reality, shaking a little and gasping, "S-sorry." I mumbled, so soft I doubt he heard it, "Why are you suddenly so... So nice to me?"

"Maximus likes you." he said flatly. I heard him stroking the horse's neck, and somehow I knew he was smiling, "You can't be all bad."

* * *

I just_ wear myself out_ trying to write this! This is like saying, "I'm miserable." seven hundred diffrent ways. My fingers hurt my carple tunnel is acting up and my angst meter is _completely tapped out. I CANNOT WAIT TO BRING EUGENE'S SIGHT BACK!_

But, I dusted off Divergence, which means I won't be forgetting about it anytime soon. Granted, the only way I _could_ forget about it is by deleting everything and never speaking of it again, because I actually _can't_ forget about it when it's sitting there glaring at me from over my other two works and the guilt keeps eating away at me and I just feel aweful!

I just won't be working on it for another... I don't know... Don't expect regular updates.


	5. Chapter 4

Divergence.

(Disclaimed.)

Okay, one of you raised complaints at the F-word. I'm sorry about that. (And I'm not normally sorry about my language!) I really am. I'm used to a rougher fandom. But anyway, I said in chapter two that the rating would go up, but its going to be a gradual thing, as Eugene grows more and more frustraited with his situation, the perceptions, actions and tone is going to become less disney-esque (than, you know, it already is). I skirted around some pretty major and adult issues in chapter three, but Eugene is going to be hounded by thoughts of what the Stabbington Brothers can and would do, and he is going to become a bit more blunt each time as he comes to terms with things that are just plain _not_ under his control.

Yeah, we're going to have the typical, falling 'Disney Death' but we're also going to have _Rapunzel and an OC hanging a guy with her hair_. You read that right. _He gets strangled with her hair. Her HAIR._

It. Gets. Real.

* * *

Chapter four:

The feigned indifference continued for five days, and aside from what was absolutely necessary, niether the Queen or the Captain said a word to me. And I was just fine with that, in a cold, misrable, resigning way. Eugene _wanted_ to tell him, and the logic behind it was good. They needed to know, hell they probably_ deserved_ to know. But Flynn knew it was a bad idea, more often than not I sided with Flynn on these matters, which was _probably_ why I was still alive.

Eugene could quit being a whiny attention whore.

He was starting to wear away at Flynn, though, not because he was convincing, but because he was hellishly annoying. After a month or two of this, I _might_ actually consider opening up to Lawrence, especially if this silent treatment continued. I wondered how I would manage being surrounded by people, and not a one of them said a word to me. It was isolating. It was suffocating. It left me alone with my thoughts and I kept freaking out.

And that was terrible for me, but sometimes, I just could not stop it. I sat inside the tent, silent, motionless, trying to look thoughtful even though on the inside I was shaking terribly. I heard the Queen and the Captain pouring over a map, and I heard the soldiers loud uproar of gambling and merryment outside, but I was too intently focused on Blondie and her own safe keeping. I had recieved one vision of her. Just one. Why not more?

Was it the mirror shard? Maybe if I kept it close to me at night, I would find some reliefe from these dreamless nightmares? I did not know. It was killing me to not know.

"At the present heading," the Queen mused cutting into my thoughts, "We will head to France."

I snapped back to reality, and I sensed they had seen my posture suddenly straiten and hands tighten. Feigning casual, she said, "We should pay Marquess Herbert a visit."

I could not contain myself, "You _know_ that bastard?"

Flynn had just blurted it out. Eugene had been thinking it, sure. But Flynn had just randomly forced it out of my mouth. I clamped an hand over my lips and I was _certain_ the Queen was giving me a scolding look. But I could also sense smug triumph. She had found what hit the nail right on the head. How had she figured it out? What clues had I dropped? Was it a lucky guess? Had she been prepared to rattle off French nobility until she found the one name that made me snap?

"That 'bastard's' son is _engaged_ to Sophia... I-I mean, Rapunzel." she turned on her heel, muttering to herself, "Rapunzel, Josie. She has been given the name _Rapunzel_."

"What?" I exclaimed, standing up, cutting off her mumbling, "You... When? What?... How?..." she was not talking about me. Jealousy and anger flared up at once and I could not help but shout, "NO!"

Then I stormed out, tripping over the table and brusing my leg. The Queen shouted in shock and once again, I stupidly ran off, completely blind. I do not know _why_ the knowledge made me angry. Marquess Herbert had another son. Okay. I had known that for years. Another son that was engaged to _my_ Rapunzel. Yeah. That was it. If her False Mother had never kidnapped her, I never would have met her. My _half-brother_ would have gotten married to her. That was it. That _hurt_. That hurt enough to find the Witch and join her side, so long as I could have her to myself.

Flynn Ryder was furious. He was demanding I take Max and the compass and set off on my own. Eugene kept reminding him of my many limitations. I was blind. I was broke. I had no legal power. And I would be heading right into the territory of my father. Flynn Ryder wanted to punch the orphaned sissy, but he did not. Eugene's logic was winning over Flynn's determination more often these days.

It was because of Blondie.

At least they both agreed that I had to get her back.

I sank to my knees in the grass somewhere out of earshot of the camp. I heard a river running before me. I wondered how deep it was for a moment before remembering that I was _angry_ not _suicidal._ I ran my hands through my hair and felt tears pricking my blind eyes. What a terrible way to think. The Queen never said the engagement was going to stand. She could see how I felt, right? She was not just going to get Rapunzel and toss me aside, right?

If she was going to do that, she would have just taken the mirror shard and made a run for it, leaving me to rot and await my execution. She did not have the heart for that. The Queen was above that. She would figure someth—

"Ryder!"

My tears instantly dried up and they were replaced with cold fear as I heard the Captain walking towards me. I stood up and turned around, hoping that I was facing him head on and not completely off by a few degrees. He kept walking forward, calmly. I stepped back cautiously, wondering if I was about to trip over something.

Maybe fall into that possibly-deep river.

"Don't back away from me, Ryder."

That name! I was beginning to hate that name! I was the name of the theif the Captain hated. The theif that the queen was going to toss aside once his purpose as hero was filled. I hated it. I hated it with a bruning passion. The fire in my blood was pounding everywhere, making my head spin in blind rage and my hands shake. It frothed up and made my voice crack as I screamed, "You wouldn't understand! You just — couldn't understand."

"No!" he shot back, "Don't think for a moment that I don't, Ryder!"

"_Stop rubbing that name in my face_!" I shouted, wishing I could see where his proud mug was so I could punch him square in the jaw. The emotions were bubbling up and I knew he was standing dead in front of me. Rapunzel was weeks away. She had surely given me up for dead now. She was engaged to my _legitimate_ half brother and I may well be _dead_ in a couple of weeks because Marquess Herbert _would_ see me, and he _would_ put an end to me.

And he was standing there, thinking I was just a common criminal, drawn into the world of crime because of cheap thrills and the rush of running from the law. Even if he had told me otherwise. It was all a ruse. A ruse to make me tell him who I really was, so that they could thow me to my father and let him kill me, then let my _legitimate_ brother take my place and let _him _have Rapunzel. The blood was pounding in my ears and Flynn Ryder was screaming to kill him. Eugene even wanted to vent some of his pent up aggression.

My closed fist hit a metal breastplate.

Damn, that hurt.

Rather than cry out in pain, I let my hand remain where it was, probably in the center of Corona's emblem. I was breathing heavily, my heart was pounding, but I could not actually hear or feel it. I stopped suddenly, lost in my own personal darkness. The Captain did not step forward, or away. We were quiet for a moment. I do not even think my heart _was_ pounding, maybe I was not even breathing..

Eugene wanted me to stop. The Captain had not mean anything cruel by it. It was not a malicious reminder of my crimes. He called me Ryder before. It was all he called me. He just called me by what ever last name I had chosen. Probably because he thought he did not have enough respect to call me by my first name, or because he assumed we were not close enough to be on a first-name basis.

I drew a suddering breath and pulled my stinging hand away from the metal armor. I stepped back, massaging it roughly, trying to dull the pain and bring the feeling back, "H-how long have you known?"

"She did not deliberately cause that outbrust, if that is what you mean." His words were harsh, but his tone was caring. He placed his hand on my shoulder, "Let's go back."

"No." I said in a small voice, "N-no."

I started shaking uncontrolably, and I could not figure out why. Was I mad? Yes. Scared? Certainly. Cold? Maybe a little. But I didn't want to go back. Not after a display like that. Who would want me there? I felt like the seventeen-year-old punk I really was, deep down. I was a regular arsonist, better at burning bridges and licking my own wounds than re-building them.

I heard him walking, then sitting down beside me, "Sit... Ry—" he stopped, as if debating what to call me. I heard the beginnings of many words, boy, kid, whelp, son, but each one stopped before it ended, and he repeated, "Sit."

I did as I was told, we sat in silence for a long time, him waiting for me to give him my backstory, and me waiting for him to either give up or hit me and call me a stupid, ungreatful whelp. I heard him sigh in frustration and take off his helmet, setting it down between us, then his gloves, "You're not going to make this easy, are you?"

"G-give me a reason I should?" I demanded, scooting away.

"Because there is no point in hiding anything after an outbrust like that. You might as well tell me to avoid any rumors starting."

"You jerk."

"You don't get to be Captain of the Gaurd by being nice."

I did not have a decent comback. At least, I could not shoot back an _honorable_ comeback. I could make all kinds of accutastions, after all. Like he did not think I could not see the blatant chemistry between him and the Queen? She had not exactly needed much _convincing_ to leave her husband and country. So I said accusingly, "We'll I'm pretty sure you don't get there on credentials alone."

He was quiet. I sat in smug silence, letting him know I was just as capable of bringing out stinging remarks of my own. I was blind, but I was not unobservant. Maybe I was only making that accusation because I was angry, and their constant banter had gotten on my nerves once or twice.

"Josephine and I are _cousins_."

I wanted to accuse him of lying, but I knew that was wrong. I could tell by his tone he was mildly upset by my accusations, but he was no where near lying. "...Oh. Sorry about that. C-close cousins?"

"Her uncle was my father, but we were not close our entire life."

"So, did you find out before or after you became Captain?"

"I found out when he tried to have me killed when I was fourteen."

"I was seven." I found myself blurting out. There was a brief sting of fear and sadness in my chest and a slight burn of tears in my left eye, but other than that, there was nothing. I realised what I had said and covered my mouth at once, but it was too late, the Captain turned to me, probably just as smug as the Queen had been when she had struck nerves a while ago.

Well, I was certainly not folding up under pressure. Where had my nerves of iron gone? I was giving everything away and they had not even resorted to physical torture. Whatever they called their methods, I had to learn them. They were cunningly effective.

Stupid Eugene! Absolutely stupid. I sighed in frustration and ran a hand through my hair, grumbling something unprintable.

"Eloquently spoken." Lawrence quiped, "But, uncalled for."

"Well screw you, too!" I stood up.

He was smirking, some god-aweful grin that chilled me to the bone, even though I could not see it. Smugly, he got to his feet, "I never actually caught your name, son."

"Don't call me 'son' like this was some sort of heart-to-heart chat." I said bluntly, brushing his hand off again. "If things had turned out any different, you would be the one overseeing my execution and you wouldn't bat an eye."

"This is true."

"So don't act like you wouldn't."

"You're upset." Lawrence said bluntly, "You think that the world has cheated you, and in a way, you are right. You may have been cheated, maybe you've never been able to trust anyone before, don't you think I know what that feels like?"

No. I did not. I was still getting used to the fact that he and I were one in the same. How could a man that had faced nothing but injustice his entire life, ally with the law? Then again, perhaps _I_ lookedk like the weaker one. He had taken the path of justice, I had more or less keenly thrown myself onto the wrong side of the law. Unfortunate, but true.

"My real name is Eugene..." I stopped that was enough right? He did not need a sirname along with that, did he? No, why would he? "... Fitzherbert."

I had said it anyway. I certainly do not know why so anyone who was curious had better ask a higher power, becuase I did not know. Really, I did not want to know, because I am certain it means I am going soft.

Well, Flynn Ryder was always a little soft. Eugene Fitzherbert was always there to make sure of that. Always. Lawrence helped me to stand, and walked with me back to camp, only occasionally steering me. He knew how much I liked my independence, how desperate I was for it sometimes. Fortunately, he did not have to force me through the indignity of being called 'son' again. I did not like that. It filled Eugene with fear. It filled Flynn with fear. And _no_ they _never_ got fear mixed up with exitement and want.

That tingling sensation was fear. I did not care about being accepted. I had lived on my own for _ten years_ and I did not give a damn about being taken care of. I would not ever need anyone to watch out of me if RapunzelÕs false mother had not blinded me.

When I got Rapunzel back, I would not actually need them, would I? No, she would heal my eyes. She had to be able too. And that was for the best considering they would only take her away from me. I did not deserve a princess, after all. I could betray them and be perfectly fine with it.

Only I would not be. After that bitter, spiteful thought, I felt a little guilty.

"Flynn, are you all right? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I... I forget no one outside the palace knows sometimes."

I felt her hands on mine, then cupping my face in her hands, "Flynn, please, _please_ forgive me."

"... Of—" I had to back away. I could not take it. These people hardly knew me, they were not even in my social class! And yet they were nothing but kind to me. "— Of course."

Dinner was served then and I could take a little pride in the fact that I could eat on my own with out making a complete mess. That was one thing to be happy about. But I could not. I kept wondering if Rapunzel was alright. Was she eating enough? Had the witch found a place to settle down, yet? All though the meal he kept worrying, panic gripping his stomach and he hardly noticed the flavor. When I settled down for the night, I proped myself up on my elbows and summed up the courage to test my theory again.

"The mirror shard." I said, reaching my hand out, "Can I see it, please?"

I felt the compass fall into my hand as my eyelids drooped down.

_There were a million colors in the dress shop. Rapunzel frowned. She hated colors. She had grown to detest them and the very mention of color made her sick to her stomach. Surrounded by so much vibrancy she felt nauseous and dizzy. She kept her eyes down as mothers and daughters casually searched though various finery. A few giggled as they saw her short hemline and bare feet. She paid them no mind as she stood there._

_She was looking for the tailor, but could not seem to find him, in the mean time, she began searching the dresses on display for cuts and details she liked, despite the presence of wreatched color. She did eventually find them, but the hemlines were all far too long. Much to long for traveling. They would never do._

_She kept walking. More women and girls kept pointing and gawking, this time at her dress and her hair. The length of it, though extremely durable and silken was winding around the shop behind her like a golden snake._

_Which the tailor promptly tripped over._

_She was quickly tugged back by his stumble, which was about ten or so feet down the length of her hair. She turned quickly and doubled back towards him_

_He was a short man, only a few inches taller than Rapunzel was herself, with little spectacles and a tape measure draped around his shoulders. He looked her over, stopping at her bare feet and he looked just as amused and bewildered than anyone else._

_"What can I help you with, young lady?"_

_"I want a grey dress." she said plainly, "One suitable for most climates and traveling. One that washes easy and wears well. Light weight. Perferably cotton, but I can be swayed to handkercief linen. No wool."_

_Wool would be a terrible option for traveling. It did not wash well in the slightests and was too heavy. Preferably not silks, either, but thoes _did_ wash, and that was a plus, but they were expensive and she did not have much money to freely spend on her clothes._

_The tailor frowned at her._

_"If..." she started shyly, "If you could get the fabric I need, I could make it myself." She offered. He smiled warmly then, and looked at her as if he expected her to do the same. She would not. She never would. She sometimes wondered why anyone bothered smiling, but each time she did, she remembered that not everyone was misrable, and she could take comfort in the fact that someone, somewhere was happy._

_That person was just not Eugene._

_He helped her gather up her hair and showed her to the backroom, where there were several yards of fabric in every fiber and color possible. She picked out a medium weight grey cotton and spread it out on the floor. He took her measurements — which was quite awkward — and explained to her that her dress was quite out of date, and that her underclothes were severly lacking._

_So in adition to the grey cotton fabric, he took down several lengths of light weight linen and taught her first how to make a proper chemise, which was cut out of several rectangles and triangles, insureing that not one scrap of it was wasted. She made two, one to wear and one to wash, and made two pairs of drawers for the same reason._

_Then, the tailor showed her how to use a _machine_ that would do the majority of sewing for her. Simple garments that had once taken days now took only a few hours. The dress itself was cut to her exact measurements. While other women wore corsets, she was not forced too, and as the sun set, she was standing before a mirror with a faint smile on her face, and a new dress clothing her small frame. It was only a small smile. She could _really_ be happy again, but it was enough._

_"This is for the fabric." She said, reaching into the small bag her mother had told her to keep anything important in._

_"No." he said, "Don't bother with it."_

_She frowned. She wanted to argue and insist she pay, but she knew he would either not accept the money and she would be here for hours, or he _would_ and she would return to Gothel penniless, which might upset her a bit._

_So, regardless of the heavy guilt, she put the coins back in her purse along with her extra underclothes._

_The shopkeeper smiled, "Miss, there is... one more thing."_

_"What?"_

_He handed her a little box. She opened it and saw that it contained three pairs of stockings and a new pair of leather boots. She forced a smile, and knew it would be wrong to not accept such a generous gift. For his benefit, she slipped on a pair of stockings and the boots afterwards. When he found she did not know how to lace and tie them, he gave her instrunctions and she practiced until she was certain she had gotten it right._

_Then she left. She did not want to, but she knew she had to. Gothel would be cross if she did not._

_It was the mute one that had been assigned to wait for her. When she emerged from the store in her new dress, he tried his best to put on a quaint, friendly smile, but it seemed to matter what he did he always failed at looking friendly. It was because he was an ape of a man, just like his brother, but she knew the mute one was the kinder one. He had never given her a cross look and he had never raised a hand to hurt her. It was his _brother_ that was the hurtful one._

_But even _he_ pulled his punches and curbed his insults when her mother was around. She knew it was not out of respect. She could see that he wanted her to think he was not a threat, but she was not fooled, neither was Gothel. It just put them more on edge, and that was why it was always Wilhelm [1.] who was assigned to wait for her. She neither one of them trusted Jacob with the task of minding her, and so he did not bother declining the general 'escort Rapunzel' order. Of course, 'guard Rapunzel' was far more accurate. Or perhaps 'keep Rapunzel from _ever_ running away again.'_

_Or at least, the latter two were what Gothel _wanted_, but Wilhelm obeyed the letter of the law, not exactly the spirit. He just escorted Rapunzel. That was it. He kept one sharp eye on her, and one sharp eye on everyone else. The irony _was_ of course, that he only really had one, so he must be very good with the one eye he had. She could even compare him to a character she had heard about in Gothel's sotries, Argus, a giant of a man with at least one hundred eyes. Excpet, of course, he only had _one_._

_However, that one sharp eye focused on her at that moment. He looked truely sad to see that she was wearing the color of mourning, but he could not say a word about it. Instead, he gave her a knowledgeable look, that eventually went from her face down to the purple mass in her arms._

_She looked down at her old dress, too, and felt a little twinge in her heart at having to discarde it, but she knew it had to be done. Eugene was gone. He was never coming back. If she looked down at that dress and kept remembering all of the good times they had together, she would never be able to go on. She would never beable to reverse Gothel's ageing and look at that dress with any clear conscience. _

_She threw the dress down with the other cloth scraps and walked away._

* * *

[1.] You know what's funny? Wilhelm is mute, right? Well, in the world of soundeffects, there is a track called simply, "the Wilhelm scream." I've never actualy gotten around to hearing what it really is, but I am pretty sure it is used for mute protagonists in video games.

Every time I update this story, I feel a wave of reliefe, did you know that?

Its like a... Well, I can't say that this is the tangled fandom...

But every time I sit down at the computer these days and open the 'Tangled' folder, I get this feeling, like: DIVERGENCE, LET'S DO THIS SHIT!

And then I open the file, and I'm like: "Oh fudge, I can't do this."

FML.

Semi important notes for the OCD:

This story takes place in the Early 1800's. (desent sewing maching was first invented around 1830, so I'm just fudging dates a bit... Hush, I'll do that alot.) This is a

prime example of failing history forever. Ironic, because I always got high marks in history. Oh well.

I would also like to point out that it takes at least two days to make even a passable fitted dress. The tailor's machine is probably not perfect

Also, standar-sized shoes were not invented yet.


	6. Chapter 5

Divergence

(Disclaimed.)

Readers, Y U NO REVIEW?

-Except for like, the Friendly Ghost. Thank you. You're the coolest person ever. I'm so sorry you're a ghost.

* * *

Chapter five:

We had reached France.

That pulled heartstrings, imagine, being unable to see my homeland with my own eyes? True, I did not need to see it to know what it looked like. But I did not need to have eyes to know we had traveled strait into the domain of Lord Herbert.

Because the Queen kindly leaned over and told me, "We're just entered the Domain of Lord Herbert on the Northern border of France."

"Thanks." I grumbled. Eugene was terrified for his life. Flynn was fighting to get a piece of Lord Herbert, Marquees of this sad little territory. [1.]

"So you might want to put your hood up." she said knowingly, and I felt the linen hood against my ears and a shadow was cast over my face, "He has... spies."

"Thank you."

"Lawrence has your back." she said, "I am going ahead with a messenger to pay the good Marquis a visit."

Then she whipped her reigns with a quick, ladylike, "Hiya!" and I heard her galloping off.

"Ryder?" Lawrence asked, "Are you sure you're up for this?"

"Yes. I'll be okay."

I sighed and tried to ignore the little bit of extrasensory perception I had picked up. There was a little static nagging to my left, and I was certain he kept his eyes on me. I was old enough to know a hood could not hide anything from him. He and the Queen both were oddly perceptive of my feelings. I suspect Josephine because she was a mother at heart, and Lawrence because he had learned the difference between a bad person and a child with a troubled past.

He, like Blondie, was able to see past Flynn Ryder.

"I don't even see why we are here!" I grumbled eventually.

"Lord Herbert and the Queen are very close."

"You mean to tell me Rapunzel and I are half siblings?"

"RYDER!" he raised his hand to strike me, but I was spared by his grace and a quick step to the side by Maximus.

"Sorry." I mumbled, "I just... I don't like him."

I felt silly saying it. Childish. How many children did not _like_ their fathers? Was I justified in my hate of mine? Perhaps so. I frowned and my shoulders slumped. Lawrence was watching me. I could feel that little static nagging, but it was stronger now. Steadier. No longer a fluttering moth's wings but a loud, relentless tapping.

"But why the hood?" I asked, "He'll still figure it out."

There was silence for a while, until the Captain said reassuringly, "Stick close to me." he mumbled, "And he won't."

I was gripped with a sudden panic. The attacks had happened every now and then. I usually shrugged them off, but now that I was lost in darkness, I could not let the black fear gripping my heart go. My hand's tightened on Maximus' saddle horn and I bit my lip. I could feel Lawrence steering his horse closer to Max, and I was grateful for his protection. I felt safe. Secure.

And so terribly afraid.

No one had ever looked out for me before. I felt a tear slide down my cheek and fall onto my hand, but no one else saw it. I blinked them away quickly.

"He will. I know he will. He always does."

"The Queen ordered me to look after you." he said hastily. That made me feel worlds better, even if I suspected the captain still harbored a secret distain and mistrust for me. I opened my mouth to thank him, but he added, in a softer tone, "And even if she had not, I believe I would anyway."

I could feel that he was smiling and me, and I found myself smiling back through my panic and sadness. He took Maximus' reigns and lead me along. I relaxed, the sunlight and the sounds of France, the sounds of my homeland, surrounding me in warmth.

"It's good to be home."

Except, I realized with a stone settling into my stomach, it was not.

The Captain said something I barely heard over the bustle around us. We continued on our way for another ten or fifteen minutes, until the noise died down and I heard footsteps echo. We were in a courtyard. It was cold and when my blind awareness stretched out, searching for anything, I found nothing. Nothing at all, aside from stone walls and pathways.

"The Marquis."

I heard him. My mind reached out and highlighted him. It was pulled away by a second presence. A kinder one. One that was on my side, "And the Queen?"

"Yes."

I kept my mouth shut after that. I heard the party dismounting and I blindly followed their lead, but I kept my seeing-eye-horse with me, my fingers threaded through his mane.

"Let him go." Lawrence silently commanded me, and I felt his hand on my arm, "I will guide you."

I let him lead me away, up a few stairs until I could feel my father's aura colliding with mine. [2.] I wanted to run. I wanted to take the Captain's sword and kill him. I wanted to run to the Queen and just cry about the terrible childhood I had, never knowing my mother and always avoiding his sight. But the Captain's hand on my arm kept me from moving. I kept my head bowed and my face covered.

Was my breathing too heavy? Could they hear my heart pounding as loudly as I did? Lawrence's hand tightened on my arm, "Relax."

And somehow, I did.

"Ah, Lawrence, I was just telling the Queen how nice it was to see the two of you again."

"It has been a while."

"And who is this—"

"This is—" the Queen started.

Lawrence said quickly, "He was exploring the woods one day when he happened upon the witch. She put a curse on him, and now he is blind."

The Marquis was not amused, "Yes, but who _is_ he?"

"He is..." There was only a second of thought, a second of hesitation, "My son."

If I had eyes I would be gaping at him. Not only was he sticking up for me, but he was lying on the spot do it! It was a completely irrational joy. A foolish one. But my heart leapt, as if I suddenly had a father. I shook my head. Lawrence was no more my father than Lord Herbert was. I kept my hood up and my face down and tried to look helpless and innocent. That seemed to satisfy my estranged and clueless parent. I felt his eyes turning away and I knew the Captain's grip on my arm loosening.

"Oh, how sad." came an oddly familiar voice.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Lawrence cut me off, "He is also mute."

Flynn Ryder wanted to scream out, "What do you _mean_ mute, old man?" but Eugene dove for him and clamped his hand over his mouth. The two wrestled inside my head and Eugene eventually won control of my voice and kept it silent. I was secretly glad. I was certain the Captain had a reason for saying so suddenly that I was not able to speak. I would not disprove him. Not yet.

"I never knew you had a son." the familiar voice said calmly, "Let alone _my_ age. He's just as tall as me!"

"I... I do not speak of him much, it is true, Lord Bastion. [3.]"

"Such a shame he's mute and blind. I could use a good friend." Bastion said calmly. He whispered then, "Father drives them all away, and the ones he does let me have found me far too... Reckless, shall we say? But—"

I heard the Marquis growling. I could feel Josephine shifting uncomfortably to stand closer to me, to shield me from Lord Herbert. Bastion was pulled away from him, too. "Dear Marquis, we have traveled quite a long way. Might we retire for an hour or so?"

"Of course. I will have refreshments sent up."

Then Lawrence hustled me away with the Queen, who said a hasty farewell to Prince Bastion. He hollered a dinner invitation to her, which she graciously accepted. Lawrence said nothing, and the two hastily left us. We climbed stairs. Went down a hall. Slammed a few doors. I felt like a prop caught up in some crime drama gone horribly awry.

It was chaos for me. It was all in darkness and I could feel the Captain and the Queen sliding through servants and fine hallways. Our running feet echoed, and it made me think of the long walk I had taken to the hangman's noose. It was hell. I was scared because I was living under the same roof as my father and I had a half-brother that was suspiciously like me. Flynn Ryder was furious. Eugene was scared out of his wits.

I wanted to scream.

But their arms around me kept me from crying out.

I did not want their help. I wished I was dead. I wished I had been quicker, or that Gothel had been slower and that this had been cleared up weeks ago. I could probably be awakening from a two-week long drunken stupor by now. I wished so many things. I wished my father was a poor farmer, but then I never would have met Rapunzel.

I wished the Captain really _was_ my father when I had nothing else to wish for. Everything would have been fine, then. I would never have turned to crime. I really would have just been wandering in the woods one day, and I would have just met Rapunzel randomly and—

"Get out!" Josephine said, "Go, go! The Captain and I _must_ discuss something in private."

When their footsteps had died and when we were alone, I could not help but hiss, "_MUTE_? You made me _mute_?"

"I'm sorry; you and the Prince sound alike, as well."

Again, I said something unprintable.

"Mutes do not swear." he corrected me.

"And you made me your _son_ too?"

The little excitement at the prospect was quite gone now that he had so easily compared my voice to Bastion's. And he _had_ tried to hang me about a week or two before. Possibly three. Time slid by when you were blind.

"The Marquis _knows_!" Josephine said quickly, "Flynn, he... he _knows_. I-I don't know how, but he does. I sensed it. I saw it in his eyes."

"What do we do?"

She stopped, "Lawrence, don't let him out of your sight. Tell the Marquis... you fear a lasting curse. Get a poison tester. Anything you want. Just keep him safe."

"I don't see why _you_ care!" I did not know why I was angry. I could not figure it out. I just... was. There was nothing to do for it but try to calm myself down. Except I wanted to stay angry, because anger was easy when you were furious and frightened and afraid of growing attached, "If you figured it out—"

"I never thought _he_ would!" she exclaimed, "He's an insufferable _brick_ with the intelligence of a toad! Lawrence, isn't he a brick? I-I mean, how can a _brick_ like him make a son like _you? _Eugene, you're nice. You're sweet. So is Bastion, and if you met under different circumstances you'd like each other. I just know you would."

I could tell by the sound of her light, clipping footsteps that she was pacing. She was probably running her hands through her wind-blow hair.

"The Marquis is after power. He always is. That's the only reason Bastion is engaged to Rapunzel. If he knew _you_ were the only thing standing in his way, he'd kill you. And he does not even _need_ another reason, does he. The question is not 'Will he do it?' but 'How will he do it?' 'Will he make it look like an accident?' and 'How will he keep the rest of us quiet?'"

She was right. Had I endangered everyone?

"What are we going to do."

"I-I don't know. You sure as hell can't have dinner with him, he'll poison you, but you can't be separated from either of _us_, he'll find some other way to kill you. Lawrence, what do we do?"

"We don't panic."

"I'm not panicking!" Josephine said, "I—I'm fretting."

I wanted to sit down. It could not stand under this pressure, but at the same time I did not want to stumble blindly towards a chair. The Queen sensed this and guided me towards a chair, then she poured herself a glass of water. She continued pacing.

Lawrence sighed and grumbled "He knows."

"Yes." She answered.

"And we know."

"Right. W-we can't let him see that we're on to him."

"But..." I said, "If he _knows,_ what is that going to effect?"

"Ryder!" Lawrence laughed, "You may be a criminal, but I'm not going to let _him_ hang you."

"Oh?"

"Yes... That's... That's _my _job."

"Oh, Lawrence, you softy." Josephine teased. I heard her sink into another chair, "You'll look after your own _son,_ surely."

He did not respond, save to sit in a third chair and take off his helmet. He ran a gloved had through his short hair and sighed heavily, "We can't stay here for too long. We can get fresh horses and supplies, but we can't remain here."

I agreed with him. I did not want to stay here too long, not after our cover was so easily seen through. Besides, every second we _did_ waste here was a second Rapunzel was getting further and further away. I made sure my hood was still over my eyes and tucked my knees under my chin. We were silent for a while, until the door swung open. Several servants came in, bearing trays of tea and refreshments, then they left again.

I did not eat. I was too worried and scared. Neither did the other two. Despair and hopelessness is great for killing your appetite. Eventually, the Captain said that he was going to check on Maximus, and a while after that the Queen reluctantly took the dinner invitation that Bastion had extended to her. I was left alone, but I did not mind. I was going to be just as frightened with them as I was without. I was not worried about myself. I was worried about Rapunzel. I had not had a vision about her in quite some time. Maybe she was still in France, maybe that was where Gothel had decided to settle, somewhere in the French country side.

And that worried me.

You could not see it on this side, not in these grand marble halls, but there was poverty sprawling out below, just on the edge of the opulence. People were getting fed up with the aristocracy, they wanted their own independence, like the colonies had gotten years ago. [4.]

I wondered where the compass had gone, because I wanted to go to sleep and receive another vision of Rapunzel. I had not done so in a while. Every night I thought about it, but I was too terrified of what I would see, and still, every morning I cursed my own cowardice. Now was as good a time as any to try, but I knew I would probably break something if I did get up. I stayed where I was, wondering, shaking. I could not stand this. I was so scared I was getting sick.

How long would it be? How long would Jacob and Wilhelm put up with Mother Gothel? Did she know they were just waiting to stab her in the back yet? What was going to happen to Rapunzel when the blood was finally drawn? Was Gothel going to try to give them the slip? That was useless. They could never outrun the Stabbington Brothers. Would she kill them? She would only manage it if she caught them _both_ asleep, and one of them was _always _awake.

Rapunzel was just an item in the equation. There was two of them and one of her. Gothel would never manage to defeat them if it came to an outright confrontation.

I bit my finger to keep quiet and squeezed my eyes shut. Still, it did no good. She was screaming my name, even though she knew I was dead. She was calling for my help as the three struggled before her and I could not do a thing. As the Witch's body crumpled to the ground, Blondie said she was sorry, clutched her false Mother's dead body and begged her to come back. She tried to revive her. She sang her incantation but it did not work. Gothel had lived on borrowed time and the Lord of the Dead had come to collect what was long overdue.

Jacob grabbed her by the hair and jerked her to her feet, pushing her back into a wall, ripping off the grey dress she had made. And the worst part was, she couldn't understand _why_ they were doing this. How could she? Gothel had never seen fit to explain what Rapunzel would never need to know, right? There was no point, it would only lead to more questions. I only saw their bodies, no surroundings. After all, how could I know when this would take place? I just knew it would happen, inevitably, if I wasn't—

"Ah, here you are!"

I screamed and jumped, "What the hell?"

"So you do talk?" came the voice, so much like mine it was creepy. It sounded like it was coming from the window. I heard the rustle of fabric, and then light feet landing on the marble floor. An untrained ear would think that Bastion had been barefoot, but I knew he was wearing boots. How was the son of a starched noble woman so light on his feet? "Funny, why would the Captain say you cannot?"

"He... Well—I mean, _I_..."

"Are you always this articulate?" he asked jokingly.

I stood up and shouted in flawless French: "_Shut the hell up you spoiled pretty boy!_"

And he replied in the same language: "_What brought that on?"_

Of course he couldn't see that we were identical. I could tell not that the heat from the sun was gone, and my hood was still up. I sat down again, "I'm sorry, Lord Bastion."

"Oh, don't be like that!" He said, walking towards me. His boots were probably polished to perfection. I tried not to look angry and jealous, "I just noticed you were not at dinner." He took the chair Josephine had been occupying a while ago and I sensed he was smiling at me, "Are you… Are you really blind under there?"

"Yes." I answered, "But it wasn't really a curse."

"Oh? Do tell me, then."

"Huh."

"W-what?"

This was my little brother, and right now it sort of... felt like it, too. I leaned back in the chair and told him the story (except I left out that my name was Eugene Fitzherbert). Without interrupting or complaining he served me a cup of strong, cold tea when he sensed my voice was getting horse. It took about an hour to give him everything that I knew (and that he could afford to know)

Still, I was not thinking and he shot a hole right through our cover story, "Lawrence's last name is not Ryder, Mr. Ryder. It's Thorwyn. Someone, somewhere, is lying about their name."

"He's... He's not really my father." I said quickly, thatching lie with lie, "He just took me under his wing. I kept my name."

"Oh, I see." But he was not done grilling me, "Why didn't you come down to dinner? It's very good. I could even have some brought up if you don't want too."

"No."

"Or, I could light a fire... Well, it wouldn't do much for you, but it would brighten the place up. I don't want to leave you in this dark abyss—Forget that train of thought completely."

"You... I don't need anything."

This was... kind of weird. I shifted uncomfortably, wishing I could look out the window or do _something _to take my mind off of Bastion.

"Or..." he said casually, "I could show you the magic mirror."

"What?"

"Yes, it has been in the family for generations. It will show you what ever or whoever you want to see."

"I'm blind, you ass."

"F-fair enough!" he laughed the insult off. He got to his feet and I sensed he was holding his hand out to me. Hesitantly, I took it, and let him guide me down the many corridors. It was not until our steps started echoing close to us and up that I realized he was guiding me up a tower, and he might well be planning to push me out. He would have a perfect story, too. He was just trying to protect the magic mirror (I seriously doubted it was really a mirror, or magic.) from the infamous Flynn Ryder.

I would be unable to find my way if I turned to run back. If I was going be killed here, fine. It was heartless of our old man to send one brother to take the life of the other.

We climbed a few more stairs after that, and Bastions whispered, "It's not far."

He had a sort of child-like excitement in his voice, like he was a kid. It reminded me of my first days as a thief. Hell, how had either one of us come from our old man? We walked up the stairs and Bastion opened a heavy door. If the echoes of our footsteps were still reliable, we were in a small room. Bastion walked up to the center and I heard a box opening, then something being taken from that box.

"Do you want to see her?"

"I'm blind."

He took that as a yes, apparently, because he said, "Show me Rapunzel."

It was quiet for a while. I heard he mirror whisper something, not words, it was just a sort of hiss, and a cool rush of air brush past me down the stairs below. I did not hear anything after that.

"She looks alright." He said, "She's asleep."

"Is she hurt? Can you tell?"

"No. But she doesn't look starved or in pain." He answered. I heard him sitting down by the pedestal, and I eventually joined him, "Show me where she is."

"W-where is she?" I asked after the hum and chill has passed.

"Countryside, in some ruins. I don't know where exactly, but they are not around here. I know all of the ruins around here."

"So you... You can't tell?"

"No."

I took the mirror from his hand, "Show me Mother Gothel."

"She's also sleeping."

"S-show me the Stabbington Brothers."

"Oooh, that's a friendly surname." Bastion remarked, "And an even friendlier looking pair."

"Are they awake?"

"Yes. They seem to be... talking."

"About what?" I blurted out before he shushed me.

'_You're too soft, Wilhelm._' Jacob said. Wilhelm did not answer. Wilhelm never answered, so there were long pauses in the conversation, '_We know the incantation, we don't need the old bag… Okay, so she's just a girl? So what? She was just a baby and the witch kidnapped her… Well, she won't be so naive when we're through with her._'

Then there was nothing. One of them must have gone to sleep, and Jacob had never been one for talking to himself.

"It's the mute." Bastion narrated for me, "He's keeping watch. He's..."

"What? What's he doing?"

"He's walking over to Rapunzel—"

"What?"

"But he's not doing anything." Bastion added quickly, "He's just sitting there."

"Just... sitting there?"

"Yes."

Something creaked. It was a stair not far from us. We got to our feet in unison, and Bastion set the mirror back, "Hide. I'm not really supposed to be in here."

We were _totally_ related!

We hid in a dark corner of the room behind another shelf and waited quietly as the footsteps entered the room and the door shut again. Bastion stifled a gasp as the box was opened again. Fortunately, the squeak of the hinges covered up the noise. Then a familiar, growling voice commanded, "Show me my oldest son."

... Oh, no.

This was bad.

That? That was the Marquis. And, he just asked a magic mirror where I was, the huge irony was that I was right behind him. He was probably asking because he had sent an assassin after me and the assassin had failed to come back with my heart in a specified box because he had been unable to locate me. I was screwed. I was so screwed.

I heard the mirror being set down and the box slamming shut.

"Stand up."

Bastion got to his feet behind me, "Father, I am very sorry, I simply wanted to show Flynn—"

"I was not referring to you. And that is not his name. Leave."

There was an understandable moment of awkward silence, Bastion stepped around me, "Wha? What is going on, Father?"

"Leave."

"I—I would like to know what is going on. What is his name if not—"

"Leave."

He pulled me to my feet and started to guide me towards the stairs. I thought I was just going to barely escape because the Marquis did have some principles and he would not kill me in front of his own son, but he interrupted us, "No. He remains."

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"Father, I _like_ him, and I don't see what's wrong with having him as a—"

"This is not about you!" the Marquis spat, then he addressed me, "I thought I killed you."

"No!" I shouted, shrugging off Bastion's hands, "No, you killed every other orphan and abandoned bastard in the city, but you didn't kill me. And I'll never forgive you."

I felt the hood being pulled away from my face, and I knew then that Bastion could see me.

"I have a brother!" he screamed, "And I never knew. You are no father! You never acknowledge him and I see now you _barely_ acknowledged me."

"He means nothing to me."

There was more to this spat than I knew, I was certain of it, because Bastion was probably not the type to fly off the handle so easily. He stepped past me and shouted, "No one means anything to you. I mean nothing to you. _Mother_ meant nothing to you. All that matters is power, power and money. My friends are never good enough. You only want me to marry Rapunzel because you know Carona is wealthy, but there are plenty of other small kingdoms that could use the money and protection you provide through my marriage."

"Be quiet."

He was rambling now, and I could not tell how true his words were. I wished I could see, just so I could see the look on our father's normally smug face. "Just before my mother died of a broken heart, she told me something. She told me she switched us a birth, so that her _real son _would have a hope of growing up in a good home and the son of the_ tramp that had ruined her marriage_ would have to face the hell of living with you!"

He jerked out the mirror, "_Show my father his real misbegotten son."_

There was silent. The mirror hummed. I assumed that he was holding up the mirror so that the Marquis could see which one of us was the real heir and which one was the bastard.

Then he ran away.

* * *

[1.]... who can trace his lineage back to Belle and Prince Adam.

- I actually demoted the poor man to a Marquis.

[2.] Extrasensory perception Eugene is fun and practical. _You_ try writing everything from the perspective of a blind man. It is difficult. This way, a_lot_ of things wind up making sense.

[3.] Taken from one of the former names for the prince, back when it was 'Rapunzel Unbraided' I think.

[4.] I am butchering history and there is nothing you can do about it.

If you want to hear more about Prince Bastion, then kindly submit a review. 30 reviews unlocks Bastion's storyline.

50 unlocks Mother Gothel's Adventures in Hell.

If we get to 70 I'll... give you an ice cream cone or something.

WORK FOR IT!


	7. Chapter 6

Divergence.

(Disclaimed.)

Am I the only one who thinks 'Summerboy' by Lady Gaga is great for Tangled? Does that make me a bad person?

Also, there's probably some offensive language in here somewhere.

* * *

Chapter six:

I was running down stairs. Blindly.

Hell no, it was not fun! It was actually the worst thing I've ever done so far. I could not see a damn thing, I could only hear Bastion running ahead of me. The good thing was, I could not hear the Marquis shouting curses or threats or running behind us. e wHe was old and slow. Too slow. His back was probably close to giving out one of these days, and his joints were probably killing him from the walk _up_ the stairs. Too much effort, the poor devil's heart might go.

Good.

"Hold up, you idiot!"

"No!"

"I—" I pulled the best reason I could out of my ass, "I'm your older brother and you'll do as I say —"

"By _two weeks_!"

Fair enough.

I lost balance and grabbed the hand railing for support, swearing loudly. I could tell by the noise, though, that Bastion had in fact stopped and turned to shoot back his remark. He did not move up to catch me, but he did not keep going ahead. We listened for a while, and I could not hear any movement behind us. Unless there was secret passage way we did not know about, we were probably in the clear for now. The Marquis' voice had never been one to carry, so he could not shout, 'Kill him' from the top of the tower and have any hope of being heard.

We reached the bottom of the stairs and Bastion was running like a man possessed. I followed him to his room, where I heard him quickly packing a few things. He did not say a word, which was strange for one possessed, but I did not mention it. When he had packed his things away, I followed him down into what I assumed was the stables by the sounds and smell of livestock, as well as the slight crunch of hay under my feet. It was warm inside, and I heard him opening a gate and leading a horse out, then quickly saddleing it up.

I felt the Captain's presence beside me, "Getting along a little too well, are we?"

"I have no time for idle chatter!" Bastion said quickly, "Eugene, You are free to come with me, you are free to remain..." he slowly guided his horse around us to the exit of the stables, "But I advise you to make your choice quickly. It seems you already have a horse willing to take you."

I heard Max grunt beside me. Without thinking, I stepped back and mounted him. I had gotten quite good at finding the stirrup and swinging myself upward. The Captain must have saddled him up for the worst - case scenario, "Thank you." I told him.

"Of course." He replied.

Bastion climbed into his own saddle, I could not tell anyone with how much grace and poise he managed this, "We will head to the north east. I know a cave we can hide in until the morning comes. Captain, I want you and the Queen to meet us there as time allows tomorrow, and we will part ways then."

He lightly clipped his horse's sides with his heels and galloped out of the yard, to the cobblestone courtyard and to the stone bridge. I heard arrows clink against the stones just a few inches away from Maximus' hooves and I drew a quick breath, twisting my blind eyes back because I had forgotten that darkness lay before me and behind. Bastion gave the reins a flick—I could hear leather clicking against leather—and I urged Max to match his speed. Together, we raced off into the countryside, I was trusting Max to follow Bastion, which he did. I clearly heard two horses galloping for quite some time. For a few hours, and when Bastion stopped short, Max did as well, and he waited patiently while Bastion got his bearings again.

Then, I heard more hooves and I realized, Bastion was not waiting to get his bearings.

"We're being followed!"

"I know." He said, "Very fast horses, very light riders, the few master short bow men in France, all under our Father's employment."

"Here to kill which one?"

"My, isn't that a daring question?"

"Wait!" I shouted, "W-which one of us is the legitimate son?"

"I..."

There was a moment of pressing silence and even the horses stopped their fidgiting out of tension and respect. I held my breath under my hood¸ biting down on my lip, and wondering if it really would change anything. After all, I was still Eugene, I had still grown up on the streets, unloved. I had still seen things no kid should see. Really, the Marquis would probably still try to kill me, just to spite Bastion's insolence. I tightened my grip on Max's reigns, waiting, while the horses were audible to even ears with sight, and Bastion confessed, "I don't know. I was too scared to look."

"But you said—"

"But I never really believed her." Bastion said, his tone soft. It abruptly changed to a hard, angry blade. "_And I never wanted too._"

I heard a sword draw then, and Bastion moved his horse between me and oncoming danger, "Take cover, if you would. I will handle this."

I had no choice but to obey, Max took me off the trail to the cover of the trees, where I would await my brother's fate and most likely my own. My cloak concealed me in shadow and the colors of the earth¸ and Max was more than capable of hiding beside me in the foliage. Bastion waited until the hooves were loud enough, then he gave a vibrant call and rushed his horse forward, only to move quickly back again on only two hooves. It whinnied fiercely, and I could only imagine from the calls from riders and horses that it was causing damage.  
I do not know what went down, but there was some damn fancy footwork on the part of the horse, and some fine fighting from Bastion's side. It sounded to me like some war god, able to slice arrows in half I heard crossing blades, an arrow dove from the fray and nearly missed my head. It was invigorating stuff. Bastion's horse had the power to break _bones_. I heard several crack, be it ribs or arms or legs, bones were busted, mark this blind man's testament.

He was in league of his own. A league far beyond mine, and a league that deserved Blondie. In my hiding place, I slumped against Max's side, waiting for the skirmish to be over.

All right. I get it. Having resources makes you better. Could my little brother's moment of fame be ov—

I heard the swish and twang of an arrow, Bastion gasped and his horse suddenly side-stepped. I heard the heir cry out in pain.

"Bastion!" I shouted, "B-bastion?"

"I'm fine!" he said, moving quickly again to get in front of me, "You should _never_ give away your position, even if—"

"You blue-nosed _brat, _how dare you lecture me about what to do and what—" An arrow skimmed past my left shoulder. I stopped, midsentence. I could be _dead_ right now. Hell, Bastion could be dead. I wanted for the hooves to subside until I spoke, "You... You took that arrow for me?"

"It was a non-fatal shot to my right arm, or a deadly blow to your chest." Bastion shot back, "You mean to say you wouldn't do the same thing? Selfish _bastard."_

"Well, if I wasn't _blind_, dumbass."

"Is that any kind of thanks to your little brother? I just saved your life!" Bastion said, making his horse pace in front of me. I swung onto Max's saddle to give us a level playing field.

"Well, if your _father wasn't a —"_

"_Don't say that like I enjoy it_!" Bastion shouted, "I loved the woman who at least pretended to be my mother, and I believed her story until our father's indifference and cruelty drove her to her grave, and that is more than I can say that I felt for him!"

He huffed angrily and flicked his reigns, urging his horse onwards. I followed suit.

"Yeah, well how do you think I felt? You at least _thought_ you had a silver spoon shoved up your ass. You got to sit around all day—"

"While you had to flinch little trinkets to get by, using skill and wit to get whatever you wanted?"

"...While you just had to wait around for Rapunzel to be delivered to you by all of _my_ hard work."

He slapped me. Twice. The second time much harder than the first, like he had just whapped me across the cheek to see what striking another person felt like, and the second time to really drive the feeling home. I was flung into Maximus' neck, stunned by the quick, biting blow.

"You." He said fiercely, "May _think_ you know what it feels like to have absolutely no one, but trust me, it may have been because of our Father's influence at first, but later on, it was just your own inability to trust people. You do not know what it feels like to have every friend told they are no good enough and pushed away. You know what it is like to live under an icy hand but you don't know what it is like to be unable to run away. You can leave the country and be out of his jurisdiction, because you don't have the divine tracking device of noble blood. I cannot. If you think you know what it feels like to be completely —"

Now it was my turn to slap him, but I did not say anything. I was angry and jealous, nothing more.

It would not be the only conversation to end in blows. I raised my hand to bring it down again, but he grabbed my wrist, "Stop." he said quickly, making his horse take a few steps back and letting my arm go, "We're only fighting like this because we are both afraid and angry. Our argument is with our... _him."_

He was right, but I was not about to tell him that. He was silent for a moment, and I heard him rummaging around in his bags until he drew out his mirror, "Show me my father."

Again, a thick burst of cold air and a gentle hum. Bastion began to slowly guide his horse on ward, and Max followed, he began to narrate what he saw, "Father is signing something. I do not know if it is a death warrant or just an order for our arrest."

"What about the Queen? Is she in trouble?"

"Show me Queen Josephine of Carona... She's alright. I think if Father was going to do anything, he'd have done it by now. She's safe."

"Good."

We traveled in silence after that for a long while. Eventually, a rain started to pour down, but Bastion told me not to worry, because we would reach our destination soon. I was not worried. I had spent hours in the rain before, I could do it again.

But we did reach the cave soon, and it was large enough for both of us and the horses to fit in comfortably. I had to go on Bastion's word, though, that it did not appear to be so on the outside. I did find the opening to be quite narrow, however, so I would trust his judgment.

He left me there while he gathered wood for a fire and fallen leaves for a bed, when he had lit the fire and had spread out both blankets, I could tell by the pained hiss he made that he was looking at the arrow in his arm. I heard draw his dagger and I said, "You can't be thinking of pulling it out. You'll bleed out right here."

"I'll cauterize it." Bastion said, "I've got a knife. Fortunately, I don't need to tell you to look away."

But I did hear him breaking the shaft and pushing the arrow through his arm. He groaned in pain several times, and I just plain heard the noise it made. It was disgusting. I heard the knife hissing as it touched his skin, and I heard him fight not to scream through the pain of scaring his arm to keep the blood in his body. When his operation was done he dropped the knife and lay down, breathing through clenched teeth. I remembered the first time I had been shot. It had been in the leg. I still had the scar from it.

"I never had any friends. It left a lot of time for... hobbies."

"So, you became crazy good at horseback riding, archery, swordsmanship?"

"... And judo, painting, lock picking, escape artistry, ballroom dance. Only thing I can't really do is swim, but I know it well enough to keep myself a float."

"You and Rapunzel will make one crazy talented couple."

He did not say a word. I bit down on my lip and turned away from him. Had that been said with more spite than I was aware of? Probably. I wished that I could watch the stars pass us by like I had so many nights on watch, but I could not.

I imagine that their entire palace would be wood and stone and canvass, and they would spend half the day painting it. I was pretty damn jealous, because even after I told him how I felt about Rapunzel, he had not said a word regarding their engagement, probably because he himself did not have a solution. He turned on his side, crunching the leaves, but I barely heard it for the crackling of the fire between us. I tucked my knees under my chin and contemplated apologizing, but I knew it would not change the past, what was said had been said. I simply waited, hoping he did not hold it against me.

Time passed. I was certain he was asleep, but I did not feel tired. I had spent most of the day in a state of half-sleep, and I knew someone should keep watch, even if I was blind, I could still hear. I got to my feet and walked to the cooler air, assuming that way would lead outside. When the sounds became clearer and I felt a strong night-wind, I leaned against the rough, rocky surface and crossed my arms, drawing my cloak tight around myself for warmth.

I could take the mirror, ask it to show me Rapunzel, but I would not get much out of it. I was blind. Perhaps I would only hear her screaming for help.

"I looked in the mirror once before."

I jumped. It was bastion who had spoken, obviously, for there was no one else. He laughed, but I knew he was not laughing at me. I heard him sit down again, "A-actually, I looked in the mirror a lot of times. You do silly things like that when you are lonely. Look in magic mirrors."

"I—I'm sorry about snapping."

"Don't feel bad. I snapped too. It's in our blood."

"What do you mean?"

"Half of us." He was clearly joking with me, trying to lighten the mood, "We aren't all bad, just his half."

"Oh." I did not feel like forcing a laugh.

"When I heard about you, from Mother, I honestly thought she had gone crazy from the pain. It... We don't know what took her from us. I wish we did, but we don't."

It was my turn to sit down now, and we sat together in the mouth of the cave. I was staring straight ahead, he was probably looking up at the stars.

"What did you see?" I asked, "When you looked in the mirror? Did you ever ask it about me? What about Rapunzel?"

"I asked. Once. I could have asked for the mirror to show me the way, and I could have saved her, but I knew father would never let me. I lacked the courage."

"Then, what did you look at?"

He was silent again, for a long, long time. The stars drifted along in the sky, but I could not see them. I wished I could. At least I still remembered what stars looked like, and I still remembered what Rapunzel looked like, even without my visions. They were little points of light in the sky, that was all. They had never looked very special to me.

Except once. That night with Blondie. She had spent what seemed like ages unloading her knowledge of the heavens to me. It had seemed like a waste at the time, but now that I missed her...

Bastion confided suddenly. "I asked it to show me my true love." I turned my face to him, and could not respond. He sounded like he was horribly ashamed of it.

"Who... Who did you see?"

"Not Rapunzel."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Not Rapunzel. I don't know her name. I know what she looks like!" he added optimistically, but his voice changed again, "_Obviously_. I know she's a princess, too. And that she—"

"How do you not know her name?" I interrupted, "You can hear things in the mirror, and surely someone's used her name."

"No."

"Unless you always catch her alone... Which is kind of creepy." [1.]

"It was not on purpose!"

There was silence.

"Not the first time."

"I suppose it's her fault for always bathing at the same time each day, eh?"

"B-be quiet!" Bastion said quickly, "Enough. Don't talk to me like that."

I hid a grin behind my hand. I could not judge. If I had a magic mirror and knew all of the best times to catch _Rapunzel,_ would I do the same thing? Yes. I challenge anyone to find a better use for a magic mirror for a young man my age. I did not say a word, and tried to keep the image out of my head while still finding the humor that I could in my brother's situation.

"And... I think I've met her before, once. Or seen her. She looks so familiar. I just can't place her."

"Then why aren't you engaged to her? I've you've met her before, if she's your age, why hasn't your father submitted a proposal?"

"She isn't good enough." Bastion muttered, "Just like everybody else."

I was curious again, deathly so. I found myself thinking of the mirror, and of how it had shaken the cards so. Everything was scrambled on the table again, and we had access to the knowledge that would straighten everything, maybe not to my advantage, but I was not thinking about my personal gain then. I was thinking about how much I simply wanted to _know_. Perhaps it was a matter of pride. If he had been trying to kill me all these years and _I_ was the legitimate son, it would make him look pretty damn stupid. That was what I was out for. I just wanted to see him get humiliated. That was all.

"We should look." I said, "We should see which son is really—"

"No." Bastion said firmly, "No. We won't. Not until you get your sight back. You would only have my word to trust about it, and—"

"What?" I asked, "I can only trust you as much as you trust me? And you _don't_ trust me?"

"Something like that."

We were silent again, except for the noises of the night around us, I could not hear anything. Bastion coughed once, twice, but he was still mostly silent. I waited, until eventually I found myself giving into sleep.

_I dreamed about the first time I saw the lanterns:_

_It was my first job in Corona. The _first_ time I tried to steal the crown, and I thought it would be simple enough._ _I don't remember why I wanted this and I don't remember how old I was. At the time I had planned on getting the prize, and putting as much distance between myself and the guard as possible. I had not even done the first one, and it was already on to stage two._

_I had not turned out that way. There were plenty of_ _guards still left keeping the crown safe. Apparently, Corona had this kind of trouble before¸ and they knew what to do about it. I had come in quietly enough, but I had overestimated my own abilities, or perhaps I had underestimated _theirs_. I would never really know._

_I scrambled up a pile of boxes and climbed onto the roof of a house. The first lantern had started to rise up, and I cursed myself. If I had just waited a little while longer, just ten more minutes of lying in wait. I would have never been discovered!_

_I had chosen the Princess's birthday for a reason! Everyone was on all of the main streets, everyone was looking at the sky. There were numerous dark shadows created by the many lanterns, and all of the back streets were completely abandoned. It was the perfect time to steal something and make a break for it, too good to be true._

_It would have been true if I had just bided my time!_

_"You're so stupid, Ryder!" I hissed to myself, sliding down the shingles and rolling off the roof into an alleyway. I hit the ground running, and slipped past a crowd on main street, barely managing to sqeeze through in time. There was just one guard chasing me. Just one. One scrawny guard, about twenty. I should be able to out run him. But I could not._

Hey, look back I him._ I thought to myself out side of the dream_. See if that's Lawrence.

_I stopped for a second, and looked back. I could have been my dream gaining some lucidity, but it did look like a younger Lawrence. He was clean-shaven, slight of frame._

_I did not look back for much longer than that. He was lost in the crowd and I seized the opportunity to run like hell away, into an alley, back into the rooftops, but on the side that was hidden from his view. If I misstepped, I would fall, probably break and arm if I was lucky, and if I was unlucky, it would be my leg or my ankle. I made it down to the docks._

_I stared over the dark water for a moment. I reflected the lights and the image stopped me for a moment, gave me a second to think about jumping head first in. I had never been the best swimmer, and it made a considerable amount of noise. If any guards walked by, they would hear me splashing around over the people standing in the main streets._

_And what if they shot me? Even a good swimmer could be crippled to the point of drowning. I had heard that drowning was a peaceful way to die, yes, but I did not believe that. Death was scary, no matter how peaceful it was. No one believed drowning was 'just like going to sleep.' Not even sailors believed that._

_"Where is he?"_

_It could have been a man asking his wife about his lost son. I did not care. My heart stopped for a second and I dove into the water without a second thought. I swam away under the black surface blindly, waiting for the arrows to start diving in after me, but they never did. Eventually, I turned around and looked at the golden lights piercing the darkness in strong, wavering beams, and I felt light headed._

_I was time to surface, but I did not want to. What if I was too close? What if they heard me? I closed my eyes and swam further away, until eventually I could not force myself to stay underwater and more, because it took more effort to hold my breath than swim._

_Then, my head popped to the surface and I inhaled deeply. I had been deprived of air so long by this point, and I had been running so hard it was physically painful to do so._

_But then I opened my eyes again, and I was surrounded by so many lanterns I could not see the island. They were everywhere, and there were so many it was like the sun had burst into rose petals, and now they were drifting on the wind around the kingdom.__ I did not want to swim away, this scene was too beautiful, so I treaded water and caught my breath¸ until the tide carried me towards the shore, and I felt the coarse sand at my back and shoulders._

_I climbed out, the rock crunching under my boots, shivering and dripping wet. I was an outsider looking in. I rubbed my eyes, stripping out of my wet clothes and sitting on the shore, while water from my eyes and hair dripped onto the rocks under my bare feet._

_It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. A beautiful thing I was not part of. I did not belong in France, I did not belong in Corona. I just could not let that get to me anymore._

"Eugene!"

"Wake up!"

The dream faded into nothingness as I was pulled back to the waking world, and I had still not gotten used to the contrast to the norm. Most people fade from darkness to reality. I saw only dark upon waking, but I knew it was the Queen and Lawrence by the voices. They pulled me to my feet and Lawrence handed me a canteen to drink from. I heard Bastion cleaning up the place and trying to make it look like we had not slept in there.

He emerged again and the Queen asked, "Bastion, have you been hurt?"

"Yes, but I was able to handle it." He responded. He was leading the horses out from the cave, and I heard them splash in a nearby pool, drinking. He was busy re-saddling his horse for a while, then he said, "Oh, your Majesty. News has reached the family that put my parentage in doubt. Because I don't want to bring ill-repute to your crown, would it be too much if I just... Broke off my engagement?"

"Why, yes, the same news reached me some time ago. I was just going to demand it myself, my dear boy."

"Splendid. I'll be going, then." Bastion said getting into the saddle "If you're here the Marquis' men cannot be far behind."

"Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"Relax!" Bastion laughed, "I am your brother. Have more faith in me." He must have addressed the mirror then, because making this request of anyone else was just silly, "Show me the way to my true love!"

* * *

[1.] Whatever you're thinking. Keep thinking it. I dare you. It's probably true.

An interesting tidbit: the mention of Mozart places the movie in the late 1700's. The colonies have gained their independence, and France is either in or on the verge of the Revolution. It adds a new angle on the story.

Can you guess the girl?

She's not an OC!

I'd say it's pretty obvious. I mean, there is really only _one_ choice.

Thirty reviews and I'll tell you!


	8. Chapter 7

Divergence.

(Disclaimed.)

(Regarding my previous question and Summerboy:)

Well APARENTLY IT DOES because NO ONE REVIEWED.

I should edit this. This needs editing. I really need to go through and correct the mistakes I find. This needs editing. I should edit this.

…

…

…

Not a chance in hell.

* * *

Chapter seven: *Warning: Opium mention/usage.*

When Bastion was gone and I had climbed onto Maximus clumsily, the Queen passed something lightweight and silken into my hands. I ran my fingers over it, and they waited, as if I could identify it. I turned it over in my hands and I was suddenly overwhelmed by Rapunzel's fragrance. This was hers. The fabric was the same. I could run my fingers over it and recognize the pattern of embroidery. The laces. The buttons in the back. I held it to my chest and fought back tears. She had been there. The city I was born in, and she had never known it. I could have met them. I could have _stopped them._ If only I had been quicker.

"W-where was this?

"Abandoned behind a dress shop. The queen managed to order a search until your little stunt made it necessary that we leave."

"Did you talk to the shop keeper?" I asked, rubbing my eyes, but I already knew the story. She had gone there, mourning my death, and had made a grey dress.

"No." Lawrence told me, "No time."

We traversed the west side of Europe, into Turkey. Time passed as it did, without my real knowledge of its flow. I knew when the caravan stopped, I knew when the sun hit my face and when we resumed traveling. I spent my nights having vague, disturbing dreams that I knew meant nothing in the grander scheme. Yes, they had Rapunzel, they had everyone I knew, some people I did not. Sometimes they were memories, but then they were horribly awry, and I dreamed that I had been following Gothel for my entire life. I dreamed insane things. Stupid things. I dreamed Bastion and I were playing tennis and while the winner got our father's head, the loser got Rapunzel.

It made sense at the time.

I would wake up exhausted, feeling like I was missing out on something, and I knew I was. I had been given visions of Rapunzel when I had slept with the mirror shard. I missed those visions, and I was torn between facing the fears of _knowing_, which came with a cold, bitter reassurance, and the fears of _not _knowing, which came with dreading the knowledge I would eventually discover. When I lay down, I could tell myself, as I was only aware of darkness, that everything would be alright and that nothing bad was going to happen to her tonight, I could lay there for hours, whisper good night to her when I was certain the Queen and Lawrence were both asleep.

But then I would dream.

And I would wake up.

And I would be lost in darkness again.

I had to be glad of one thing, though. Josephine stopped prying. They did not stop caring, of course, they just stopped talking. They could not point out anything around us to me, we could not talk about the countryside around us.

It was a damn shame. I had never seen this part of Europe before.

They could describe the sky, though, say that it might rain, sometimes they would be right, and we would trudge on. Sometimes, I wondered about Bastion, where he had run off too, but more often than not I just wondered about Rapunzel.

I could stop the questions, though. I just had to ask for the mirror shard again.

But I did not have the courage to know.

We arrived in the tiny region of Maldonia. It was in Maldonia that the Queen got our party a two day rest in the palace. Only after a while did I learn why. Maldonia's royal family had an attentive, loyal ring of spies. They picked up everything odd that happened in the country's borders.

Including alerting Lord Naveen the second of a mysterious group of travelers. Fearsome-looking twins, a woman with dark hair, and a girl with long blonde hair. The Duke of Maldonia, had, of course, attempted to capture and interrogate the group, because seventy feet of blonde hair (even at an estimate) was just too curious a thing not to ask about.

They had disappeared soon after arriving, though. This caused a rumor to fly among the spies and the court that the whole group had been wearing seven-league boots, or were aided by some other form of magic. Lord Naveen, intent on making his region more powerful, had tried to purse them to obtain this magic. Unfortunately, he had failed, and Maldonia was still just a tiny Province under the rule of the Ottoman Empire. Blondie was nowhere in the Maldonian Palace. The Captain and I checked the place from top to bottom, the Queen even used her authority to order a complete search of the city. No Rapunzel. Yet.

I could hear Lord and Queen discussing things in the tea room Josephine had been loaned for our brief stay. I was in the adjoining parlor, with my own thoughts and a breeze blowing in from the balcony. Apparently, when one had _sight_ they could walk to the balcony and their gaze would fall to a thin line of silver—the sea.

"Is there any way your spies overheard talk of their destination?" the Queen asked Lord Naveen.

"No." he sighed, "I'm terribly sorry. If there is any help I may provide, let it be this. There is a small, like minded province on the other side of the Ottoman Empire called Agrabah, under the rule of Lord Ali. I sent him a letter describing this group and to intercept them should they turn up. Lord Ali is a capable man, and he has magic up his sleeve. Most likely, he has gained some knowledge of their whereabouts."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I will send a letter with you. If I request it, he may loan this magic to you for a while. Granted, he may not, after all, this is a very precious family heirloom. His ancestors have had it long before Maldonia even existed, it dates back long before Agrabah."

"My, my!" The Queen said, "Surely you could tell me what it is?"

He laughed, "No, no. I must keep it hushed, besides, he has so many things I do not even know what I am promising!"

She chuckled softly, "Regardless, we are tracking a sorceress. Any help is good help."

The two of them walked away, leaving me in the darkness. I sat there for a moment, I could have sworn that the Queen had laid the compass on the table, and I reached out blindly, until my hands found the low wooden surface. I searched for a while along the top, until I found the smooth glass surface. I held it in both hands for a moment, then I lay on my back on the couch, with it resting on my chest. I closed my blind eyes and willed myself to sleep.

_Gothel collapsed on the inn's bed, a hand to her forehead. Apparently, teleportation magic used a lot of energy. Rapunzel looked at her for a moment from the hotel room door, picked up the end of her long braid, and tossed it too her mother. She did not say a word, she simply walked towards the window and looked out at the foreign streets of Constantinople._

_Her hair began to glow, but Rapunzel did not hear anyone singing. She assumed her false mother must be whispering the magic words very softly. As much as she wanted to reach back and rip the hair from her grasp, she knew that would be unnecessarily cruel. So she did not. She calmly waited for the glow to subside, and she simply waited, her hair trailing about the room. Perhaps it would trip up Jacob when he came stomping in. Then again, it might also trip Wilhelm, and she knew she would feel bad about that, even though Wilhelm did stomp. He did not do it spitefully or deliberately, and when he knew the others were sleeping he always tried _not_ to, it just never worked._

_Gothel slept now, and Rapunzel would be free to move about on her own. The Stabbington Brothers had left on some errand, probably to check out the palace defenses and steal something. She could run away. Far away. But the three of them would always find her._

_Pascale ran down her arm and sat on the windowsill, looking out into Constantinople. They were in a nice hotel, multiple rooms, the kind of decorations that were perfect for pilfering, and knowing their company, probably would be. Money was no issue when Gothel could create gold from mere pebbles. It was how she kept in good humor with their escort. Money, that was what everything was about it seemed, money and power. Rapunzel was disgusted._

_She gathered up her hair. If anything, she could find something to eat. She _was_ hungry. Though the manager of the inn had not been fluent in German, she had been under the impression that the rooms had fresh fruits placed in the sitting rooms daily. She found the siting room, and the bowl of fruits, and it was filled with ten or so strange fruits she had never seen before. They were small, a pinkish-orange color. She opened one up and saw several little seeds in dark red, liquid-filled pouches._

_It was not the sweetest flavor in the world, but it was better than sitting around and starving. She could amuse herself by counting the seeds as she ate them, and continue staring out into the streets of Constantinople, lazily counting. There must have been as many as the stars in the sky._

_And the flavor was getting to her now. It was quite bitter. Almonds would be a nice change of pace. The dark juices stained her fingers, and she worried about her dress every now and then, holding the fruit over the windowsill instead of her knees, she would occasionally give one to Pascale, but he would find it just as bitter. She stopped thinking about it soon enough, thought, and just ate, she even stopped counting, staring out over the architecture of Constantinople in wonder. They had a nice view of the palace (as was expected for a nice hotel) and Rapunzel found herself wondering what was on the other side of the wall. She could see trees peeking up above it, and a sentry in a tall tower overlooking it._

_And the Stabbington Brothers creeping along the edge._

_She cursed them silently and wondered if they were close enough that she could throw half of her snack at them. Jacob was first, Wilhelm second, and looked like he did not want to be there. She turned away from the window, and Pascale leapt onto her shoulder. She would not watch them if she could avoid it. She took her snack and her hair and walked down to the first floor, which consisted of a bath house and a den that wafted strange-smelling smoke towards her._

_She did not feel like either currently, and so she walked out, half of the fruit still in her hand. She looked around and saw a gambling house, a bar, a building lit up with red paper lanterns. There were alleys between them, musicians on the street corners. There was an old sitar player lazily strumming away just by the hotel room door, heavily swathed in cloth and reeking of perfumes._

_"You look sad." The si__tar player said, "I'll play a tune for you, for a price."_

_"I don't have money."_

_That was a lie, of course, she had a few coins in her pocket, but he could not cheer her up. She made ready to walk away from him, but he interrupted her. "Half of the pomegranate, then?"_

_She turned around and saw that he was very young, even if she had mistaken him for old. The lines on his face were ones of starvation and misery, made darker by dirt._

_"Just take it." Rapunzel said, handing it to him. Before he could play, she gathered her braided hair in both hands and walked away from him. She did not even hear him thank her, but he did. She walked on, and knew that people were staring at her long hair. One young child even reached out to touch it. Rapunzel did not mind, but she could not explain this, because she was only capable of speaking German._

_She wandered on until her nose caught the scent of baking and pastries, and she followed it to a little shop that was very near the wall of the palace. It was quite looming now that she was within five feet of it. She wondered if she would run into Jacob and Wilhelm briefly, but noticed their boot-prints in the sand pointed the other way. They were looking for weak points in the wall, somewhere to sneak in, perhaps they already had._

_The shop keeper was speaking to her, and she tried speaking back, but eventually she knew the language barrier was too great. She sighed, handed him the money, and waited._

_He handed her… Some thing. It was just a small box filled with marshmallow like treats. She popped on in her mouth and it was filled with a cool-minty flavor. She smiled, savored it, waved good bye, and walked away. She knew she had to go back to the hotel then, before Gothel woke up and found she was gone, so she returned, eating her candies, and observing everything she could, she left the neighborhoods, and returned to the block the hotel sat on, and noticed for the first time how different this air smelled. It stank of alcohol and the same smoky fragrance from the hotel, and slightly like poppies, she was certain of that. The sitar player was still sitting there, eating his pomegranate, but he did notice her, and he tried to wave her down so he could play his promised tune, but she just waved half-heartedly and entered the hotel again._

_She sat by the window, glad that the Stabbington brothers were gone. She resumed watching the further streets, enjoying the scenes of life. Gothel began to mutter in her sleep. Rapunzel turned towards her, then walked to the other side of the room, and leaned into listen._

_"He's gaining on us." She whispered._

_Rapunzel stood there, watching, bewildered, as Gothel tossed her head in her sleep, and her forehead began to crease, "No power… I must find her."_

_She stopped after that, turned to her other side and fell silent. Rapunzel returned to her seat by the windowsill until Gothel got to her feet, without seeming to notice that she was there, muttered to herself about needing sleep, and walking out, staggering._

_She followed her down to the rooms that wafted smoke, and when she was sure she was distracted with whatever was inside, she followed, taking a peek inside the curtain. The sorceress had a long slender pipe between her fingers, which connected to a cord, connecting to a vase-like object. She was blowing out a long, slender trail of smoke between her teeth. She lay back into the many cushions that were found in the den, and Rapunzel saw that she was surrounded by people who did not seem to know they were not alone. The smoke filled the room, concentrating at the ceiling. She was lost to the world. _

_It was not long before she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see Jacob and Wilhelm walking up to her, "Is she in there?" Jacob asked, "Or are you just looking?"_

_"She's in there. What is that place?"_

_But he just ignored her. He and his twin walked through the curtained door, and found Gothel at once. Rapunzel kept watching, but she felt as if the smoke was having some sort of ill effect on her. She focused and forced herself to listen._

_"We've done as you asked." Jacob said. He took a second pipe and slouched beside her. Wilhelm looked at her for a moment, and did not touch anything. He just coughed, as if trying to tell the other two that Rapunzel was watching._

_"Good." Gothel replied; smoke spilling forth as she spoke, "Then, listen—"_

_"_Hey!" the Lawrence shouted, rousing me from sleep.

My hand let go of the compass and I drew in a startled, gasping breath. I had turned over onto my side, and the metal device hit the floor with a clatter, but the glass did not break, If the mirror shard inside broke, I am sure it would be fine. It would repair itself.

I wanted to be called back to sleep for a moment, but I could not relax enough, I was breathing too deeply.

And besides, _someone_ would not stop shaking me, "Eugene! Eugene Wake up!"

"What?" I asked, annoyed that my dream of Rapunzel was interrupted, but concerned about the worry in the Queen's voice, "What's wrong?"

"You stopped breathing." the Captain of the Guard told me.

"Oh?" I suddenly became conscience of the tight feeling in my chest, like my lungs had been frozen for quite a while. My head felt light now. It was a feeling I was used to.

"Something you're not telling us?" he asked.

I shook my head, "No, must have just been one of those things." I changed the subject abruptly. "When are we leaving for Agrabah?"  
"Shortly." Josephine replied, "But, Eugene... Why did you stop breathing?"

I knew she was worried, I could hear it in her voice and feel it in her shaking hand. She helped me to stand and guided me towards the door, and even though I was blind I could feel that she was searching me, as if her eyes could simply pick up any problems I had.

I had no answer for her, but I did not need one. The dream—vision!—was just as clear in my mind as it had always been. I knew where she was, and Gothel was probably planning on keeping her there for a few days. Air meant nothing. I knew where Rapunzel was.

"They are in Constantinople." I said, breathing heavily.

"That is not possible. The capital city of the Ottoman Empire? That's weeks away from here, and they were not here but two days ago."

"No, the witch is resting, they are planning something."

"What?"

"I don't know. You woke me u—"

"You had _stopped breathing!_" Lawrence cut in.

"No, it's cool. I get it." I said. I got to my feet and blindly searched for the balcony I staggered out towards it, trying to breath as much of the thin air that I could. Maldonia was a mountainous country, I could tell by the many times my ears popped on the way here. I let the cold, crisp air hit my face and let my breathing slow. The air was much better outside than it was inside. My mind cleared. "But she performed a spell to move faster, even if only to spare few days. She knows we are following her—or at least, someone is. Sooner or later, she will screw up and Blondie will find out, too."

"But all she did is save them some walking time. Constantinople is not far from here." The Queen said. She had followed me to the balcony, but walked away, "Captain?"

"Perhaps no more than a week, if we don't stop to rest."

"Then lets' not!" I exclaimed.

"Out of the question! That would kill the horses."

"But a week might be all we need to catch them."

"And be so exhausted by the time we reach Constantinople we can't even move?"

"Could I make it on foot?"

"You're blind!" the Queen exclaimed, "You'd have no idea where you are going, and you'd probably collapse along the way."

She was right. I tried not to sulk because I had just invited her criticism, but at the same time, I _still_ knew she was right. We said no more on the matter, but the Queen assured me we would leave for Constantinople at first light, or even before, if we managed it. She told Lawrence to pass on the message to the rest of our band, and tried to get me to eat something.

But I could not. I felt like whatever I ate, excitement and dread would push it back up.

What if we made it in time?

What if we did not? What if she only needed five days, not a whole week. I had never gotten to hear how long she had needed. If she knew I was behind them, then she was probably not going to dally longer that was necessary. What if we pushed ourselves and the horses to the limit and when we got there, she had _just_ left?

I wished I had sight again; I could at least attempt to set out on my own.

"The search did not unearth any new evidence." The Queen told me, "But if you are so certain they are in Constantinople—How are you so certain?"

"N-nothing."

"No, you're certain. Why?"

"Because I dreamed it."

"How? What makes you think it means anything?"

Damn, her voice was convincing. I sat down again, and picked up the compass from where I had dropped it on the floor, "When I sleep with this, I receive visions."

"And you stopped breathing!" she gasped. She snatched it away from me and set it down, "We're dealing with _black magic_, Eugene! You should be more careful!"

"It was just one of those things!" I said again, because I did not want to think for a moment that receiving those visions was hazardous to my health. I could not stop having them, they were the only link Blondie that was even _remotely_ comforting. "It was just coincidence."

"What if it wasn't?" she asked. She set the compass down on the table again. "Eugene, Lawrence and I care a great deal about you, and I am sure Sop—Rapunzel does as well. I would hate to lose you."

She laid her hand on my shoulder as she said this, then began to rub my back lovingly. She realized by the way I shrank away and bit my lip that it was awkward and unwanted, and she soon stopped. She stood there for a moment, her hands folded, until she heaved a sigh and walked away from me, back to the other chair.

"If you honestly think they are lying low there, I will send a letter to the Emperor, and he might keep them from leaving, but you need to tell me everything you know about their location."

When she had found a sheet of parchment paper and a quill and ink, I recited everything I could think of, the view of the palace had either been east or west, and the brothel might have been one the palace guards frequented. The hotel had blue curtains, an opium den, and a bathhouse on the first floor, and served pomegranates to the guests. Rapunzel had been on the third floor, just level with the palace wall. There had been a sitar player outside the front door, facing the gambling house.

I told her that the Stabbington Brothers had been scoping out the place, and they never examined a wall unless they planned on getting behind it, so whatever the Emperor held dearest was in a great deal of danger, unless he held nothing close to him, then he would not have to worry about a thing. The Stabbington Brothers got a thrill out of stealing things of emotional value, which was strange, almost lacking emotions themselves.

It was not much to go on, and I knew the Queen's seal had almost no power this far away from Corona, but I knew a bird would reach Constantinople before I would. But still, she had no real power. The Emperor could look at that seal and her signature and tear it up for a number of reasons, either because he had never heard of her, or because she was a woman, perhaps that many useless details received from a 'vision' only made me seem like I was insane.

Maybe I was insane. Maybe it had just been a very vivid dream. Why would they go to Constantinople anyway? It was not on the way to Agrabah, was it? So either we were going out of our way to get a magical artifact that we might not even _need_, or they were going out of theirs because she was planning something. Was it quicker to get to Agrabah by way of Constantinople? What was she planning? Did the Emperor have an artifact that rivaled Lord Ali's collection?

My had twitched.

"No." I said, "You won't steal anything there, Ryder."

With the Queen and Lawrence both gone, I could do whatever I wanted. I searched for the compass again, and held it to my chest once more, preparing to sleep again. Maybe, just _maybe_ I could hear the last parts of their plan and that would ease some of the questions I had, maybe I could even hear how long they planned on staying.

But the metal was still warm from Josephine's hand, and it made me think. What if she was right? Even if she was wrong, if she found me here _again,_ doing exactly what she warned me not to do, she would be very upset about it. I set the compass down.

Having me alive, it was just some sort of reassurance that her daughter was out there somewhere, and that she was still living, too. Maybe it was that she honestly cared about me, but I did not want to think that. Not yet, at least. She just needed me alive for moral support. I could not be very supportive if I was dead, and it would only be discouraging if I had died because of a _curse_.

I let myself wonder about what Gothel had been muttering in her sleep. "He's gaining us. No power, I must find her'? What did that mean? Well, the first parts were pretty obvious. She knew I was following her, and I was getting closer, or at least, I had been, with each day. That scared her, so no wonder she was muttering about it in her sleep.

But what had all of the other stuff meant?

What had no power meant? Was it just immediate, that she was tapped out by her magic? Or in a more cosmic sense, she was powerless against fate? What was fate, then? Had she been dreaming about the past? About trying to find Rapunzel when she was first born? She must use Rapunzel's hair for something, either an illness or a wound, but why would she kidnap Rapunzel for just a wound? Wouldn't that work once and then never need healing again?

Right. The cut on my hand had never come back.

So, it wasn't an injury. A chronic illness?

Old age?

Why would she hang on for something? Was she just that afraid of death? Had she done something horrible in the past and was afraid of going to hell? Why was she looking for a girl that was not Rapunzel?

Questions buzzed throughout me the entire night, as well as excitement, that I might see Blondie sooner than I had expected, but I did not say anything about either one, because I knew Josephine would not have the answers, and neither would Lawrence. Neither one of them had really seen the Witch in person, had they?

No. At least, I did not think so. I did not want to ask, besides, how would they even know it was her?

I did not sleep with the compass that night.

I did not sleep at all.

I lay awake in the Maldoina palace and I could not snake the nagging feeling that I should get up and leave. It was like that vision had planted some command in my head, to go, to follow them. To do it _tonight_,and if I did not, I would be cursed never to sleep again. But I knew that was wrong. Eugene knew that was wrong even if Flynn chose to ignore it. He agreed with that unspoken command. I should get up. I should leave. If I got there, I could do whatever was necessary to keep them there.

Even if I was blind.

"Shut up." I whispered to the empty darkness, "Be patient, you idiot."

I still could not sleep.

I stole five days of provisions, and Maximus.

* * *

I mean, REALLY, why don't you guys review?

Seriously. Not even one? C'on!


	9. Chapter 8

Divergence

(Disclaimed.)

Soooo... I wanted to do a chapter from Josephine's POV to escape the constant angst.

... Turns out I _can't_.

* * *

Chapter Eight:

"Eugene is gone!" Josephine exclaimed as she burst into the dining hall. She had just come with two servants in tow to bring him down for breakfast so they could start off, but he had not been there. She had checked all over, too. What bothered her was that his bedding had been greatly disturbed, as if he had been unable to sleep. What if he had simply gone for a walk? What if some street gangs had picked him off?

"Maximus is gone!" A second pair of doors shot open from the other side, and Lawrence was standing there, looking just as out of breath as she, "The stable hand said—"

"That Eugene took him?"

"Yes."

Completely ignoring everyone else, the two joined just behind Lord Naveen's chair and began pacing, "He must have gone to Constantinople."

"A blind man? Maximus is a smart horse, but he cannot find his way to a city he's never seen." He was pacing feverishly, his boots echoing around the table. Lord Naveen, who was listening intently to the spectacle going on behind his chair, stirred his tea thoughtfully, occasionally, the silver spoon clinked against the china glass's side, and it was really the only noise in the room. Everything was dead still except for the Queen and her Captain.

"He'll die out there." Lawrence stopped pacing and threw his hands up, "And this would have been for almost _nothing_. That idiot!" the concern was showing in his voice now, "He'll die out there, and if he doesn't, I'll kill him!"

"Oh..."

"Don't panic." He said, but he was furious. She could tell.

"Oh hang composure! Eugene is gone! Just give me one good shot at being hysterical, Lawrence. You know I hardly do it."

"True, true." He calmed down, but he could easily rile himself up again with enough thought. And he did so immediately. He pounded his fist into his palm, "That stupid boy! He's useless on his own!"

There was silence. Josie focused on a far off point and tried to panic, but Lawrence just stood there and waited patiently, albeit angrily, until she gave up. She had been raised far too well to keep her head in battle as well as financial crisis. As much as she wanted to, she could not drum up a fit over a human life, "Oh, I can't manage it with you breathing down my neck."

Lawrence, despite himself, laughed.

Josephine sighed and supposed that this was why queens, by default, did not make the best mothers in the world. She had tried her best, and she thought she had done a fine job of it for the few months she had her. But she had not even been moved to blind panic when Sophia was taken away, while some people would call this strong and admirable, she was concerned. Was she incapable of worrying completely about another person?

Was she worried about Eugene?

Yes. There was a cold fire bubbling in her middle, and she was biting on her lip. But that was it. She had heard panic described as the inability to think straight. Her mind was crystal clear. The course was simple: follow him. At once.

"I will go to Constantinople." She declared, "Alone."

"What?"

"It would make more sense than _you_." she said, "I am lighter. The horses can carry me farther and faster. It takes a week, right? Lord Naveen?"

"Yes, your majesty?" he asked from his chair, wiping his mouth.

"I want your fastest horse, no, no, mine is fast enough, forget it . But...Oh! servant's garb! I'll need to dirty myself up a bit. And I shouldn't be upset if you had a simple bow and arrows."

"Josie, you're having too much fun with this!"

She had begun to take her hair out of its elaborate knot and once it had all fallen down around her shoulders she doubled over, letting it hang to the floor and she hastily scratched her fingers through it, messing it up considerably. "You can all follow along behind, if you wish."

"I will send the men ahead to Agrabah and they will wait for us there."

"And you'll follow me to Constantinople?" she had begun to muss the top layers now, and then she fluffed the body, "Just you?"

"Yes."

"Your Majesty," Lord Naveen cut in, "Won't you at least have breakfast?"

"Oh, _fine." _She sat down at the table and stared at the abundance of food before her. She suddenly gained an appetite and took a bunch of grapes and set them on her plate and poured herself a cup of tea, "But Lawrence, you'll slow me _down, _and if we have a re-mount for you that will be four horses we have to take care of, you know."

"Go as fast as you want. I'll just catch up when you encounter trouble."

"Trouble, Lawrence?" she asked, "You know I'm a ward _against_ trouble."

She popped a handful of grapes into her mouth and took a small handful of almonds as well. Lord Naveen remarked that if a simple change of hairstyle was enough to make her forget her manners, she was a lady without compare. She gave him a bit of a rude look, feared she would choke, and slowed her pace. When she had finished her almonds and grapes, she ate a small muffin and drained her glass of tea.

Then, she retreated to her room to find that all of the items she had requested had been brought to her, a rough green linen dress and a long tunic and drawers of unbleached, roughly sewn muslin, and a green kerchief to tie back her hair. There were a pair of long cotton socks and heavily scuffed leather boots. They might have even been a _boy's_ boots, they were so small. The clothes were worn, but clean. She pulled off her fine silks and velvets and whale bones and changed into the clothes. They had even provided her with a plain yew bow and about twenty five arrows.

She turned around and looked at herself in the mirror. She certainly did not look like a queen anymore, the elaborate knot her hair had once been in had left her hair filled with wild light-brown curls. She felt like nothing more than a pair of green eyes in a sea of brown tangles. She tied the strip of linen around her head and walked out the door, her heavy boots clomping loudly on the tiled floor.

She joined servants bearing more of her orders, a plain woolen saddle blanket, a second-hand saddle, and a plain wooden bit for her horse. One bore a blanket for her and another carried a week's worth of food and a plan purse that hid a great deal of money. A third handed her a cloak and a map, she put the cloak on, and tucked the map away safe in her bodice. She found her horse, a fine chesnut steed, made for traveling long distances and bred for his courage. She saddled him up herself and swung herself astride in the saddle.

She led him through the streets of Maldonia's capital at a leisurely pace. Pausing once and a while to make sure she was heading east, and following the rising sun. In a while, she was out of the city and in the country side, she let her horse pick up his pace, though he did not break into a full canter. It was more of a light jog. She stopped whenever they reached water and let him drink. By midday she was eating a simple lunch of apple and cheese and he was grazing by the road. She saw no sign of Lawrence, and wondered if he had changed his mind or had gotten lost.

She rode for a little while longer, but got off and gave her horse a rest, leading him by the reigns as she followed deep wagon ruts. They reached another small stream, and she stopped to let him rest and drink again. She went upstream from him and splashed water on her face as well, then took a sip.

She sat back on her heels and looked around. She expected a road to a large city like Constantinople to be busier, but it was still save the breeze and quite except for the creek in front of her. She kicked off her boots and socks and dipped her feet in the water for a moment. She crouched down under the bridge where it was cool and shady, and looked out to the silence and the stillness. The breeze was cool on her face and the water was cool around her ankles. And up the river, she could see a cottage and a fence. She was familiar with this kind of feeling, this feeling of smallness and loneliness. She had taken many rides into the countryside on her own before.

None of them lasted for an entire week, of course.

She let herself contemplate _why_ she was running out here for Eugene.

She did have a certain fondness for the boy. Before she had met him she had heard news of his exploits and she had thought him very cleaver. Even his first attempt to steal the crown, though botched, had been bold, and she only knew it was him because she had seen him that very night, skidding down the corridor and into the library while the soldiers were raising a fuss in the back court yard. She had not said a word, because he was only a little boy, and she had no interest in sending a child to the gallows.

Eugene was a child that had spent his life without a mother. She was a mother that had spent her life without a child. It was only natural that she should at least bond with him, even if it was only one way. After all, he may only be seventeen, but he viewed himself as a man. She was certain of it. He had taken care of himself for ten years. He could not just sit back and let her take care of things. It was probably a matter of personal pride.

Still, what had possessed him to do something so obviously foolish as run off on his own? She hated to be brutally honest but he could _not_ last very long on his own. He was blind, it was true. Did he still think he had the ability to travel on his own, even though he was blind?

Was the answer just something as simple as willpower?

Had he just decided to leave with a single lead, simply because he loved Sophia—Rapunzel!—so much? She had not possessed such courage when her daughter was kidnapped, of course, the only lead she had was a figure in a black cloak, and the sound of her little Sophia crying. That was it. A swish of black and they were gone, not even a splash when they hit the water. It was like she had simply flown away.

And she had taken everything away from her and Ivander when she had.

They had not been in love any more. There was something that had kicked youthful love out and had replaced it. Something solid and cold, like a cornerstone, something that did not have obstacles because it was immovable and firm, the elements and time assailed it, but it remained, stubborn. It was not comfort, but it was stable. It was respectable, and by no means was their relationship the miserable part. Staying with her husband, though hard, was better than leaving forever. Their stable marriage had seemed like all she had left.

Because losing a child?

It was like losing your entire world.

Not having it _die,_ no, no that was too normal. That was too ordinary. She could have coped with her little Sophia dying. But Sophia was _taken_ from her. She was stolen. And giving birth to Sophia had been a personal victory. She had bested _death_ to do it, certainly she had magical _help_, and she could not have done it without Lawrence, for he was the one that found the flower in the first place. And she _certainly_ could not have done it without the flower.

Waking up suddenly, because you heard her crying, and only seeing, just for a moment, a figure of black before she and her cries vanished forever? There was _nothing_ more terrifying. To hear everyone whispering behind her back as she sat in the cherry wood rocking chair, thinking to herself, _I should be feeding her now_. _I should be changing her now. I should be singing her to sleep, _and all they did was mutter from the hallway, "It's so sad to lose a child."

And she wanted to stand up and scream, "I did not _lose_ a child. I did not _lose a child_. My baby was stolen!"

She hated that phrase, 'losing a child.' That implied she had gotten _careless_ and let her fall from the horse on a ride in the woods, or and misplaced her in the library or set her out after dinner with the bones of a roast dove. She did not _lose_ Sophia. That made it seem like she was stupid and forgetful. This was not her fault.

But that was what history would say, "Queen Josephine _lost_ a child." Completely omitting that Rapunzel was really_ the child_. Her _only child_. But everyone would just see 'a child,' and for centuries, everyone would mutter and whisper, "It's so tragdic," "I can't believe she lost a child," and God Forbid, "What kind of mother would..."

To be told that the disease that had nearly killed her and her baby had left her barren?

Almost too terrible to bear.

Almost, of course. They had tried other things. They had tried adopting. They would pick abandoned babies off of the street, but the first had been so young and malnourished that she had died within a week. The second had learned the value of gold and had run away with every valuable he could carry. The third had contracted a wasting disease and had held on for years until eventually flickering out like a candle.

And she had not been able to stand it anymore.

Her eyes were burning, not from the sun, but from tears. She wiped her eyes with her finger. Her horse must be fully rejuvenated by now. She left the shade of the bridge, boots and socks in hand, and mounted him, barefoot, urging him onward. They climbed the opposite bank of the river, leaving hoof prints in the mud and mud prints on the dry dirt road.

She rode until the sun set again, and a little after, just to make sure. She curled up in her blanket on the side of the road and tied her horse to a tree, closed her eyes, and forced herself to sleep.

* * *

"Sleeping like a queen, I see." A man's voice laughed above her.

"What?"

"It's me." He replied.

"Oh, Lawrence." Josephine sat up. The morning dew had left her face and hair damp. She dried her face with her kerchief and tied her hair back again. She still felt oily, and hungry. The sun was rising in the east and her horse was awake and grazing. "I was just about to get worried about you. Where have you been?"

"Here and there. Asked a nearby farmer if they had seen the little bastard, they had let him sleep in the barn, but it was late when he came and early when he left. I think Max had seen the lights and taken him there. They tried to make him stay, but couldn't. He was a live yesterday morning."

"Oh, well that's good to know."

"They gave him some food, too, if that makes you worry less, and Max seemed to be doing fine." Lawrence tossed her a skin of fresh goat's milk, "How are you?"

"Fine." She took a sip and grimaced, "You know, I _never_ liked this stuff."

"Don't complain."

"If you insist, bottom's up."

She took two more mouthfuls, remarked to herself that she had _never_ tasted anything worse, and then said out loud that it was simply _so_ bad that she had lost her appetite. Lawrence laughed again. They traveled together until midday, it was not so deathly quiet with her cousin around, and they seemed to make more time and run into more travelers. They ran into a spice merchant one time, and Josephine purchased a small mix from him, enough to season two small catches of game. She did spy and kill two ducks when they stopped by the lake in the evening, and instead of wasting provisions, they dined on those as well as a kerchief-full of figs and sour cherries she had gathered while they roasted.

She washed out the kerchief and her socks and let them dry over night, but by morning the scarf was still stained with the red cherries. She tied it around her hair again regardless. A little staining just made it look more worn.

They continued on like this, dining on stale bread, water, cheese and wild-growing fruits when there was no one else around, but when they saw a farmer, they dropped in and exchanged a little money for fresh foods, and they would always ask if they had seen a blind man on a white horse. They had always said yes, and they had spared what they could for him, even if it was only water and shade. So the two continued to follow his trail down the road, and each time the news became a little more disheartening. The horse looked fine, very well fed and rested, but perhaps a mite dirty, but he was in much better condition that one would expect the mount of a blind man to be. Eugene, however, if heresy form the farmers could be trusted, seemed to be growing less and less with each day. Not physically, though he did not appear to be hungry, he _did_ eat. It was just an air about him. He seemed half aware of his surroundings, like he was walking around in a state of blind panic.

They did not speak much on the fourth day. A light rain was falling, making it humid and uncomfortable. Even if it was not raining, Josephine would have doubted either one would have said anything. They were both too concerned about Eugene to speak. Even when they spoke, and they spoke little, it was just to say, "Perhaps we should walk a bit, rest the horses." Or "We should eat something." Or "I wonder how Eugene's doing."

It was mainly, "I wonder how Eugene is doing."

By middle of the fifth day they reached a small town just before the river. There, they watered their horses again and asked every resident they could find if a young blind man and a white horse had come though at any time, or if anyone had _spoken_ as such or if they had at least been awoken by the sound of hooves in the night.

"Yes." a woman replied as she set two glasses of ayran between them, "I spoke to him.

"When?"

"Ah, well, he arrived yesterday, but it was only a few hours ago."

"What?" Lawrence jumped a bit.

She did not seem to notice his reaction. She was really only talking to Josephine. "He slept outside the city for a day, him and his horse. Helped him self to the water in the well, too. Can't really hold it against him, he didn't look too good. When he woke up again I offered him something to eat, but he didn't take it, just some apples for his horse. Said he wasn't hungry, I can't figure it, but he looked half dead, but not exactly starving. I suppose if you're following him, you'll know what I mean."

"Did he say anything else?"

"No. Just asked me the quickest way to Constantinople."

"And?"

"Well, I told him to wait ten minutes, and he did. A ferry arrives from up river regularly, takes your right to the city and back. I covered the ticket for him, because he wouldn't take food. He's blind, whatever he's doing in that city, he'll need all the help he can get."

"Thank you, that was very kind. I'll reimburse you for his faire." Josephine held the purse up and took out a few, "How much was it?"

"Well, that's kind of you, ma'am." She looked back and forth between her and Lawrence, "He your son?"

"Not exactly."

"How much do I owe you?" Josephine asked again.

"She's my cousin." Lawrence informed her.

"Oh, so she's his aunt, then?"

"We are not related to him, but he is our responsibility." Josephine admitted, "So, about the money..."

"Then why on Earth would you ask about him?"

"Well, he's heading to Constantinople—We'll discuss payment later, I suppose—" Josephine started, keen on taking a breather and having a chat.

"He's a liar, a coward, and a horse thief." Lawrence cut in sharply.

"I _knew_ that horse was too good for him!" the shopkeeper in question exclaimed, "Well, if it's just the horse you're worried about, the _horse_ looked fine. Really, if you were to ask me the he was taking care of the boy. Poor kid, what's he doing on his own?"

"How fast does the ferry go?"

"How much is the fare?" Josephine gave the money a little jiggle. Her conscience could not let her leave without paying this woman what she was owed.

"Fast as the current, maybe a little faster if the wind is right."

"Finish your drink, Josie, we're leaving." Lawrence then stood up, chugged his ayran and walked away to his horse.

"How much is the ferry?" Josephine asked once he was gone.

"Twenty para." She said, "Ten more for the drinks."

"Oh..." She looked in her bag, "I'm not good with this foreign currency, take a lira for your trouble."

"Th-this is a _five_ lira coin-"

"It was very nice meeting you!" Josie said between drinks.

"-you just gave me twenty thousand para."

"I do hope we'll swing by again."

She left her half-finished drink behind (it tasted of salt and yogurt, which, though cool and refreshing, was not easy to drink in a hurry) and mounted her horse, leaving a confused waitress muttering in Turkish about how all of these foreigners must be insane. She took her glasses and her five lira coin inside the shade of her store.

She and Lawrence took off, following the river, it was too wide and deep for them to cross by horse, but they were traveling faster than the current, at least, and they were not at full gallop. They slowed to a trot after half an hour later, and within forty five minutes, they had spied the ferry going down the river, and sitting on cargo that was being transported for sale was Eugene, staring at nothing in particular. Maximus was there as well, but he was too far away to clearly see.

He was too far to call too, and too far to swim too, they kept in pace with the river boat, which was painted in peeling white and red. The mast had a furled sail, and there was a shaded pavilion filled with merchants fanning themselves and travelers enjoying the river. Someone on the ship waved to them. Josephine returned the gesture. She wished she could send them a message, she wished Eugene could see her.

* * *

Damn it, Disney, no. Sophia is Rapunzel's name, not some tiny little Princess. Although, I guess Sofia the First could be, like, Rapunzel's great-great grandmother or something. She IS Sofia the FIRST after all. Not serious, just lolz.


	10. Chapter 9

Divergence.

(Disclaimed)

Soooooooooooooooo, I'm looking at a map of Europe, and I realized: "My Geography SUCKS."

It does not matter, because this is just fan fiction, but I'll do better from now on.

* * *

Chapter Nine:

_ Snow._

_ It crunches under my beat-up old boots, and makes the cold slip through tears in the boots and tears through the socks. And yet, it covers everything in a blanket of white. Except, it's not white, where the night falls it is blue and dark, where the light hits it is orange and flickering with shadows like fire._

_ Fire._

_ I don't think about the fire. I try not to think about the fire. I just watch my shadow on the flat show before me, listen to my boots crunch it down and just hope that more falls and covers my tracks. I heard a crackle and fall and a hiss as burning debris kisses frozen snow._

_ It's freezing. It's so cold the tears running down my face turn to ice on my cheeks. I am running so fast that the wind flicks some away, spreads some out, so my cheeks are covered occasionally with sheets of glass-like ice before my pace knocks them down. I don't dare look behind me. I don't dare even shout. I just want to find a street without snow, because right now there is a giant fire behind me and my footprints would lead someone right to it, or it would lead them right to me._

_ I _know_ what is there._

_ I do not recall much except for the fact that I have to get away. I have to run but it is so cold, and it is so late, and I've been working so hard all day. I just want to sleep. But it's so _cold_ I know I won't wake if I do. I have to keep moving, find some place safe and warm to sleep for the night, at least out of the snow and sheltered from the wind._

_ But I can't sleep. I have to run. Fast. Now._

_ I heard the gallop of horse's hooves and saw Max. I did not question it, even though I was only seven at the time and was not due to meet Max for another decade. I swung myself up into the saddle and at once, I was stronger, older. I considered running away at first, but then I thought to myself that with Max here, I could change what had happened. I turned him around and followed my footprints back to the orphanage, right up the stairs to the barricaded door._

_ He shows no fear as he kicks the heavy boxes aside, no fear as he made his way inside. _

_ "All of you!" I shouted, "Hey, It's me! Wake up, come on, you can get out, you can..."_

_ And then my dream became lucid again, the reality of its illusion hit me._

_ The fire did not touch us. We were not even there. I was powerless. I could only sit there and watch as my childhood friends woke up to find themselves burning into nothingness, screaming and crying and chocking in smoke. I was screaming to, screaming for the horrible visions to stop. It was like something straight out of hell._

_ I rode Max back out into the street and I saw myself still shivering. He could only walk because it was so cold, too cold to force his limbs to run. I looked back at the building and watched the snow hiss and vanish as it hit the flames. It was silent, just like a winter's night should be. Soundproof. Quiet. The fire kicked up with a little crackle, but no one bothered to put it out because it was winter, and if they could be warmed by the corpses of unwanted children, so be it. _

_ It was only a dream. I could dream about what I could have done different. I could dream about being brave, but it was still just a dream and I was powerless._

_ "Damn you!" I shrieked, "GOD DAMN YOU!"_

_ Maximus whinnied urgently._

Maxi whinnied right in my ear, nudged my head with his nose, and whinnied again. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. I did not bother trying to stop crying; I just let the last few tears silently fall, and said, stupidly, "I dreamed again, Max."

He pushed me to my feet by pressing his head against my back, and I staggered to the boat's edge, catching myself on the rail, "Are we here?"

Twice for yes.

I reached out for him and let him lead me along, my fingers woven into his mane. He lead me along and shortly I was in a line of people walking off the boat and onto the dock. It was hardly big enough for a horse, but we managed it, and as soon as we were on solid ground again, I swung myself into the saddle and let him carry me to the road that lead through the city gates. It was a shame I was only seeing a big sheet of black. I had not seen the gate, just the hotel and the places around it. I gripped the reigns in one hand and put my hood up, so no one would feel compelled to stare at my eyes.

"What if she's not here?" I whispered returning my hand to the leather strap, "What will I do?"

Max, obviously, did not say a word. I let him meander, and I was terrified again, and once again, I realized what a stupid plan this was. I could not see, I could hardly speak of word of Turkish, of course, French was fairly well known everywhere, and it was not uncommon to find someone who spoke both in large cities, and I only have vague clues. Of course, Max had proven to be an extremely smart horse of the past few weeks, going off the road to find farmers and shelters, but could he really find one hotel out of a hundred, at least, in this city?

Sitar music.

I heard a Sitar.

I pulled Max up short and he slowed down. I followed the sound as best I could, and eventually dismounted so I could get closer, when I was certain he was in front of me, I stopped, still holding on to Max with the reigns and I listened to the upbeat and lively tune he was playing. He did not continue for long, and he stopped right in the middle of a refrain and said something in Turkish, that was quick and slightly slurred, but it sounded like, "Aren't you hot in that hood?"

"Yes." I told him.

"Then take it off."

"Best if I didn't." I tossed him a coin. I said in French, "I need a guide."

"Hire one." He replied. He was just about as good at French as I was at Turkish, but he sounded like the same one Rapunzel had met.

"It needs to be you."

"Why me?"

"Because about a week ago a blonde girl came out of the hotel you were sitting in front of gave you half a pomegranate."

He asked, astounded, "E-Eugene?"

I stammered a reply, "H-how did you know?"

"Rapunzel, she... She told me about you." He replied, "We talked. I'm very fluent in German—"

"Then speak it."

He did, "She liked to listen to my music, we shared out stories I taught her a little Turkish, she always bought me lunch."

"Where is she?" I asked.

He was silent.

I dropped forward and grabbed what I thought was his collar, "Where is Rapunzel?" I demanded.

"I'm sorry." He replied after a while, "She left. Yesterday. I'm sorry. She's gone."

_She's gone._

I could not manage to make a noise. He rambled on. "She said good bye and she left. I'm sorry. If it's any consolation, I did manage to cheer her up, some. You—Eugene, she said if you were alive you would be looking for her, but she was certain you were dead. She was starting to doubt. I'm sorry. She's gone. I don't know where."

_I'm sorry. She's gone._ The words echoed around my head and chest and set both Flynn and Eugene their knees. Flynn cursed and beat at the ground, shaking his fist at the sky and denouncing the gods, Eugene just screamed wordlessly.

"Hey!" the sitar player's voice cut in, "Hey, stop that! Stop it at once. Carrying on like that is bad for business." He set down the Sitar and forced me to let go of his tunic. His fingertips were calloused from years of playing. "Come on I know a place where you can leave the horse for a while. We'll grab a bite and we'll talk."

"I don't have time to talk!"

"Think about Max, Eugene!" he answered, "Come on, take some time off."

He gathered up his things and lead Max, with me on his back, to the stables he had mentioned before. They were about fifteen minutes away, and provided fairly good service. When we left they were shampooing him down and had promised me they would take a look at him to make sure he was alright physically—I had to pay for that, of course, and I did, because the Sitar player was going to be paying for my lunch, and Max's lunch, and I _was_ pretty hungry.

A while later the two of us were sitting in the shade of an outdoor patio eating a spread of small appetizers—he had ordered it very fast, and I had not picked up a word of it—and sipping hoşaf—which was just glorified punch, really. He let me eat a while before introducing himself, "My name is Yildiz, by the way. Yildiz Fflam[1.]."

Blindly, I extended my hand. He took it and gave it a firm shake.

He followed it up with a stupid question, "So, you can eat on your own?"

"It takes some coordination." I answered, still eating, "But yeah. I suppose you know how Rapunzel and I met?"

"Yes. But what I don't know is how you _got_ here with just a stolen horse."

"Well, I was traveling with the Queen—that's her mother, by the way, I don't know if she knows that—"

"She does. Go on."

"And the Captain of the Guard. We were following a shard of the Witch's magic mirror, which pointed their way and gave me visions, I followed a vision here, I don't know where the rest of them went. They might be following me."

"Oh."

I changed the subject, "How was Rapunzel?"

"She's okay. I mean, she's as okay as she can be in her situation. She's confused and she's lonely but she's not afraid. I said before, I managed to cheer her up with a few light-hearted tales. Not, you know,_ happy,_ but she did smile. They never hit her."

"They will. You must have seen them, two big guys—"

"Jacob and Wilhelm." He answered, "Yes. I saw them. Quite scary fellows, really. It's not Wilhelm, so much as Jacob."

"Strange, I've always been more frightened of Wilhelm."

"Well, _Rapunzel's _more scared of Jacob, certainly, and despite the fact that she's been blissfully unaware of her mother's evil side, she's got a pretty good judge of character."

"Oh?"

"Yes." He was silent for a moment, "I heard some things, while I was out there, things that Rapunzel did not exactly know about. Jacob and Wilhelm snuck out twice in the night, I was the only one that saw them. I don't know what they did when they left, or if Gothel knew about it."

"You never followed them?"

"Are you insane?" he laughed, "You must have seen me in that vision! I'm skinny as a twig! They'd kill me."

I found myself laughing, too, and that continued for a while, until he said, "Gothel muttered some strange things in her sleep, Rapunzel told me, that 'He's following us' and 'I have to find her' or something along those lines. She might know you're on her tail. I know you're a former thief, what if she framed you for something?"

"How can that be?" I asked.

"She's a witch. I guess she has ways."

"She can't frame me for a crime when I'm not even in town."

Maybe she can. Eugene was skeptical, but Flynn—well, Flynn had gotten pretty paranoid lately. Of course, that was probably why he was around, to be paranoid.

I changed the subject, "The hotel?"

"We aren't far from it." Yildiz answered, "Don't you worry, I'll get you there. Eat. You look horrible."

"You were not in front of it?"

"I can't stay in one place for too long. Everyone assumes you're up to something—I suppose you're familiar with that. I never am, but I was pushing my luck staying just to talk to Rapunzel. I don't think the concierge will be pleased to see me again." He laughed, "Eat."

I did what he said, still thinking about the hotel, and how exactly I would catch up with the Queen and the Captain. Max would be upset about all of this, considering I had not planned far enough ahead for Agrabah. I did not even know where it was. Of course, I had hardly known where Constantinople was, either, but Max had managed it.

"How far is Agrabah?"

"It depends." He said, "I mean, if you came from Germany, you've already been traveling for at least three months."

He was probably right.

"And it will be a month more. Take my advice, take a ship from the port here down to the eastern coast of the Mediterranean Sea, from there, head inland for a week, maybe two. You won't be at any disadvantage, of course, because you're blind and the desert is completely devoid of landmarks."

"So, it's pointless."

"Pretty much." Yildiz confessed, "Now, don't get depressed, Eugene."

"Oh, I'm getting depressed."

"Fine, fine." He sighed. "Just, drown your sorrows with food, please, or I'll have you drown them with the finest wine I can afford... And I can't afford much."

I managed a laugh.

"You know, Eugene, I like you, I like Rapunzel, too, and I'm even fonder of happy endings. Crowd pays more for sad stories, I know, but, _I_ like telling the happy ones, and honestly, what a tale yours will make. So, let the horse be your eyes, I'll be your map reader."

"No."

"I can pull my own weight, you know. I make money."

"That's the thing, I bet you hardly make enough for _you_, I can't make anything."

"You? You're blind. You'll get money for pity. Look, here's what we do, we measure traffic flow we make sure they go by me first, I butter them up, put them in a charitable mood, they walk past _you, _blind and alone and depressed. They'll pay money just to keep the good mood. You'll make three times more than me, easily."

"I don't want to _beg_."

"That's the glory of it! You just have to sit there."

"Come on, there is no point in going to the hotel if she's gone, right?" Yildiz replied, "You'll just sit there and mope, won't you, probably just dwell on the fact that she was there just a day ago. I can't say I blame you, really. I would, too. So, just sit on a street corner a few yards away from me, we'll get enough for the boat ride in about a day or so, and we go from there, all right?"

I could tell by his tone he desperately wanted to cheer me up, and while I was in no mood to allow for that, I did let myself get worn down. Besides, he was probably right. I guess he did know his stuff. Flynn felt there was absolutely no dignity in doing it, but he would go along with anything so long as it got us closer to Blondie. Eugene was already keen on the idea any way; he had stopped caring so much about dignity. "Fine."

"Good, I know the perfect spot, it's not too far from the stable, so we can get Maximus the moment we've made enough, the corner you'll be on is right by an alleyway that will pretty much lead you right to it, and it's on the main road from the west gate, so all of the traffic on our side will be one way."

We finished our meal, and Yildiz paid, then he took my arm again, giggling. Before we settled in for what I was still half-way considering ritual humiliation, we went to check on Maximus. Yildiz assured me he was going well, and he must have thought that the two of us were heading on again, because he seemed very eager to go. It was not hard to convince him that he was staying for a while longer, though, and he settled in again for the rest of the day.

He left me there to go gather up the blanket he had left at his last street corner with his money and his sitar and Max. I did not say much. He came back in about ten minutes, obviously out of breath, "Okay, let's go."

It was cool in the alleyway Yildiz lead me though, we had been in the shade for most of the trip, but when faced with the loud, sunny main street, I realized how hot it really was in the middle of the afternoon. I shrugged off the hood, and spread it out, with the hood on front, to make collecting coins easier. To make sure people got the message, he dropped a handful of coins down into it, made sure everyone could see I was blind, and then slipped away. It was not long before I heard him playing and entertaining a few yards to my right.

From what I could understand of Turkish, he was telling my story, exactly how Blondie must have told him. But, I was never blinded, and Rapunzel was returned to her parents. Everyone seemed to enjoy it. I knew he was not doing it to upset me, but it was exactly what happened. I was not in tears or anything. It really was a fun story to here, and it had been fun until things had taken a turn for the worst.

At least, they all seemed to like it.

I stopped listening after a while, and I became aware of the sounds in front of me, the faint chucks quickly dying in my presence, then, the clearing of a throat and tracks stopping, then, a plink of a coin into the fabric of my hood. I didn't say a word.

"Must be deaf, too, poor child."

Strangely enough, that did not make me as upset as one would expect. I suppose Flynn was a little miffed, but he kept his trap shut about it. If they thought I was deaf, they'd probably pay more. It gradually cooled off, and the traffic died down enough for me to hear that Yildiz had stopped wasting energy on stories and instead had started playing a slow, smooth tune, it was probably perfect for sunsets. Was the sun setting? Was it really that late?

I heard him stop playing, and I heard him dragging his blanket towards me and sitting down, "You did good for doing nothing. I should get you to sing. Of course, I think that only really words well with blind _children._"

"I only sing if you put me at sword point." I replied.

"Ah." Yildiz laughed. He began to tune is sitar, "Well, I'll pack your cash with mine, huh? You mind just sleeping here?"

"I guess not."

"I'll wake you in the morning, if you're concerned about bathing, we'll just go for a swim before dawn. You're not supposed to, but that's what makes it fun."

I laughed, "Sure. It's quite now. Is there even anyone around?"

"Nope." Yildiz said, "No one. The sunset's turning the stone on the gate into a warm pink and the sand of the rode is shining like gold. The lamps are due to be lit, and we should hear music from the seedier part of town. But now? Now it's so quite you can hear the shore to the east serving at the back drop of the pleasant rustle of the day's last washing hung out to dry. Ever so faintly, you can hear the horn from the mosque calling everyone to their fifth prayer and soon the gates will slam when the wind from the sea whistles through the city streets, the closest thing to a symphony street rats like us will ever hear. And then, finally, the curtain of night will fall, and the crickets will give their ovation to the desperate farce of the day."

"Please, stop talking like a story teller."

"Okay." He shrugged, "Dinner, in a bit perhaps? I like to stick around and cool off for a bit.

"That sounds like a good idea." I was still pretty hot, after all, even though it was much cooler now. He was right, though, it might have been my head, but I could hear the sea, and I could defiantly hear the sound of laundry being brought in, then, the wind from the sea blew through, and it caught in some places, and it whistled through the stones. And the gates did slam, trapping us in for the night.

"Sun's down." He remarked. I heard him moving the money I had made in with his own, and once again, he remarked, "Good job."

He hid our money in the stable beside Max's saddle. It was not the most trust worthy bank in the world, it was true, but he seemed to trust them, so I had no complains. To make room for it, we took the last of the food I had rationed, and took it down the deep, narrow strip of sea that cut into the city, "You can see boats on the water." Yildiz remarked, "It's a full moon out, too."

"I guess it's pretty, then?"

"Very pretty." He replied.

We were silent again. I don't exactly know how long we sat there, but I was not were near tired, even if Yildiz was playing again. There were footsteps behind us, and Yildiz stopped, turned around, and asked, "Who are _you_?"

"I am Captain Lawrence Thorwyn Von Corona and you boys are in so. _Much._ TROUBLE."

"Oh..."

"Where is my _horse?"_

* * *

[1.] You all need to watch more Disney.


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